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Short  Histories  of  the  Literatures 
of  the  World 
Edited  by  Edmund  Gosse 


LITERATURES  OF  THE  WORLD, 


Edited  by  EDMUND  GOSSE, 

Hon.  M.A.  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 


Each,  i2mo(  Cloth. 

CHINESE  LITERATURE.  By  Herbert  A Giles,  M.A., 
LL.D.  (Aberd.),  Professor  of  Chinese  in  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  and  late  H.  B.  M.  Consul  at  Ningpo.  $1.50. 

SANSKRIT  LITERATURE.  By  A.  A.  Macdonell,  M.A.,  Dep- 
uty Roden  Professor  of  Sanskrit,  University  of  Oxford.  $1.50. 

RUSSIAN  LITERATURE.  By  K.  Waliszewski.  $1.50. 

BOHEMIAN  LITERATURE.  By  Francis,  Count  LOtzow, 
author  of  “Bohemia:  An  Historical  Sketch.”  $1.50 

JAPANESE  LITERATURE.  By  W.  G.  Aston,  C M. G.,  M.A. , 
late  Acting  Secretary  at  the  British  Legation  atTokio.  $1.50. 

SPANISH  LITERATURE.  By  J.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly,  Mem- 
ber of  the  Spanish  Academy.  $1.50. 

ITALIAN  LITERATURE.  By  Richard  Garnett,  C.B., 
LL.D.,  Keeper  of  Printed  Books  in  the  British  Museum.  $1.50. 

ANCIENT  GREEK  LITERATURE.  By  Gilbert  Murray, 
M.  A.,  Professor  of  Greek  in  the  U niversity  of  Glasgow.  $1.50. 

FRENCH  LITERATURE.  By  F.dward  Dowden,  D.C.L., 
LL.D.,  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  the  University  of 
Dublin.  $1.50. 

MODERN  ENGLISH  LITERATURE.  By  the  Editor.  $1.50. 

AMERICAN  LITERATURE.  By  Prof.  William  P.  Trent, 
of  Columbia  University.  $1.40  net. 

ARABIC  LITERATURE.  By  Clement  Huart,  Secretary-In- 
terpreter for  Oriental  Languages  to  the  French  Government. 
$1.25  net. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

German  Literature. 

Hungarian  Literature.  By  Dr.  Zoltan  BeSthy,  Professor  of 
Hungarian  Literature  at  the  University  of  Budapest. 

Latin  Literature.  By  Dr.  Arthur  Woolgar-Verrall,  Fel- 
low and  Senior  Tutor  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


A HISTORY  OF 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


BY 


W.  G.  ASTON,  C.  M.  G.,  D.  Lit. 

LATE  JAPANESE  SECRETARY  TO  H.  M.  LEGATION,  TOKIO 


NEW  YORK 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1899, 

By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


PREFACE 


“T  he  Japanese  have  a voluminous  literature,  extending 
over  twelve  centuries,  which  to  this  day  has  been  very 
imperfectly  explored  by  European  students.  Forty  years 
ago  no  Englishman  had  read  a page  of  a Japanese  book, 
and  although  some  Continental  scholars  had  a useful 
acquaintance  with  the  language,  their  contributions  to 
our  knowledge  are  unimportant.  Much  has  been  done 
in  the  interval,  by  writers  of  grammars  and  dictionaries,  to 
facilitate  the  acquirement  of  this  most  difficult  language, 
and  translations  by  Sir  E.  Satow,  Messrs.  Mitford,  Cham- 
berlain, Dickins,  and  others,  have  given  us  interesting 
glimpses  of  certain  phases  of  the  literature.  But  the  wider 
field  has  hitherto  remained  untouched.  Beyond  a few 
brief  detached  notices,  there  is  no  body  of  critical  opinion 
on  Japanese  books  in  any  European  language,  and  al- 
though the  Japanese  themselves  have  done  more  in  this 
direction,  their  labours  are  for  various  reasons  in  a great 
measure  unserviceable. 

The  historian  of  their  literature  is  therefore  thrown 
mainly  upon  his  own  resources,  and  must  do  his  best, 
by  a direct  examination  of  those  works  which  the  verdict 
of  posterity  has  marked  out  as  most  worthy  of  notice,  to 
ascertain  their  character  and  place  in  literature,  and  to 
grasp  as  far  as  possible  the  ideas  which  inspired  them. 
In  the  following  pages  comparatively  little  space  has 

V 


VI 


PREFACE 


been  devoted  to  what  is  necessarily  a record  of  personal 
impressions  and  opinions,  the  outcome  of  rough  pioneer 
work,  and  having  little  claim  to  be  considered  as  mature 
literary  criticism.  It  seemed  preferable,  especially  in  the 
case  of  a literature  so  little  known  to  the  English  public 
as  that  of  Japan,  to  allot  ample  room  to  translated 
extracts,  and  to  such  biographical  notices  as  are  neces- 
sary to  show  what  manner  of  men  the  authors  were. 

The  general  plan,  however,  of  this  series  has  not  been 
lost  sight  of.  Important  writers  have  been  treated  at  com- 
paratively greater  length,  to  the  neglect  of  many  lesser 
notabilities,  and  an  attempt  has  been  made,  in  so  far  as 
the  state  of  our  knowledge  permits,  to  follow  the  move- 
ment of  the  literature,  and  to  trace  the  causes  which 
determined  its  character  at  particular  periods. 

Writers  on  European  literatures  are  entitled  to  take 
for  granted,  on  the  part  of  their  readers,  a previous 
acquaintance  with  the  leading  facts  of  the  political  and 
religious  history  of  the  country  with  which  they  are 
dealing.  In  the  case  of  Japan,  however,  it  has  been 
thought  not  superfluous  to  add  a few  data  of  this  kind, 
without  a knowledge  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  under- 
stand the  course  of  the  literary  development. 

In  justice  to  Japanese  literature,  it  is  right  to  draw 
attention  to  some  obstacles  which  prevent  any  transla- 
tions from  giving  an  adequate  idea  of  its  merits.  The 
Italian  adage  is  particularly  applicable  to  translators  from 
the  Japanese.  Even  when  they  have  a competent  know- 
ledge of  the  language  they  cannot  possibly  reproduce 
all  the  metaphors,  allusions,  quotations,  and  illustrations 
which  form  the  stock  of  the  Japanese  author,  and  which 
are  in  great  part  unintelligible  without  a profusion  of 
explanatory  notes  intolerable  to  the  reader. 


PREFACE 


vii 

Another  difficulty  arises  from  the  fact  that  a Japanese 
word  frequently  covers  a meaning  which  is  only  approxi- 
mately the  same  as  that  of  the  corresponding  English 
term,  or  calls  up  quite  different  associations.  The  karasu , 
for  example,  is  not  exactly  a crow,  but  a corvus  Japonensis , 
a larger  bird  than  our  species,  with  different  cries  and 
habits.  The  cherry  is,  in  Japan,  the  queen  of  flowers, 
and  is  not  valued  for  its  fruit,  while  the  rose  is  regarded 
as  a mere  thorny  bush.  Valerian,  which  to  us  is  sugges- 
tive principally  of  cats,  takes  the  place  of  the  rosebud  as 
the  recognised  metaphor  for  the  early  bloom  of  woman- 
hood. And  what  is  the  translator  to  do  wit  h the  names 
of  flowers  as  familiar  to  the  Japanese  as  daisy  or  daffodil 
to  ourselves,  but  for  which  he  can  offer  no  better  equi- 
valents than  such  clumsy  inventions  as  Lespedeza , Platy- 
codon  graiidiflorum , and  Deutzia  scabra  ? 

In  the  world  of  thought  and  sentiment,  the  differences, 
though  less  tangible,  are  even  more  important.  Take 
the  Japanese  word  for  conscience,  namely,  honshin . It 
means  “ original  heart,”  and  implies  a theory  that  man's 
heart  is  originally  good,  and  that  conscience  is  its  voice 
speaking  within  him.  The  words  for  justice,  virtue, 
chastity,  honour,  love,  and  many  more  ideas  of  this  class, 
although  meaning  substantially  the  same  as  with  our- 
selves, must  yet  be  taken  with  differences  which  are 
necessarily  lost  in  a translation. 

When  to  these  are  added  the  ordinary  difficulties  which 
beset  the  task  of  rendering  thought  from  one  language 
into  another,  and  which  are  incomparably  greater  in  the 
case  of  an  idiom  so  different  from  our  own,  it  will  be 
seen  that  it  is  not  possible  to  do  justice  to  Japanese  litera- 
ture by  translation.  In  the  present  volume  it  has  often 
been  necessary  to  pass  over  the  best  and  most  charac- 


PREFACE 


viii 

teristic  passages  of  an  author  in  favour  of  others  which 
lent  themselves  more  readily  to  presentation  in  an  Eng- 
lish form. 

With  one  or  two  stated  exceptions  the  translations 
are  my  own. 

My  best  thanks  are  due  to  Sir  Ernest  Satow,  Her 
Majesty’s  Minister  to  Japan,  for  lending  me  most  of  his 
extensive  library  of  Japanese  books,  and  also  for  supply- 
ing me  from  time  to  time  with  recent  native  publications, 
which  have  been  of  much  service  to  me. 

I cordially  associate  myself  with  previous  contributors 
to  this  series  of  histories,  by  acknowledging  the  benefit 
which  the  present  volume  has  derived  from  the  editorial 
care  of  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse. 

Japanese  words  and  proper  names  have  been  intro- 
duced as  sparingly  as  possible.  The  system  of  spelling 
adopted  is  that  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  It 
may  be  described  briefly  as  “ Consonants  as  in  English, 
vowels  as  in  Italian  ; no  silent  letters.” 


W.  G.  ASTON. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  THE  FIRST— ARCHAIC  PERIOD  (before  a.d.  700) 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY — SONGS — SHINTO  RITUALS  ....  3 


BOOK  THE  SECOND— NARA  PERIOD  (eighth  century) 
(poetry  cultivated) 

CHAPTER 

I.  INTRODUCTORY — PROSE  — “ KOJIKI  ” — “ IDZUMO  FUDOKI  ” — 

IMPERIAL  EDICTS ...  17 

II.  JAPANESE  POETRY  GENERALLY — THE  “ MANYOSHIU  ” — WORKS 

IN  CHINESE 24 


BOOK  THE  THIRD— HEIAN  OR  CLASSICAL  PERIOD 
(800-1 186) 


I.  INTRODUCTORY 53 

II.  POETRY — THE  “ KOKINSHIU  ” 58 

III.  PROSE — “KOKINSHIU”  PREFACE,  “TOSA  NIKKI/’  “TAKETORI 

MONOGATARI,”  “ ISE  ” AND  OTHER  MINOR  MONOG ATARI  . 63 

IV.  “ GENJI  MONOGATARI  ” . 92 

v.  “makura  zoshi” 104 

VI.  SOME  MINOR  WORKS 1 18 


VI  I.  “YEIGWA  MONOGATARI” — “ O-KAGAMI  ” — WORKS  IN  CHINESE. 

ix 


122 


X 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH— KAMAKURA  PERIOD  (1186-1332) 


(decline  of  learning) 

CHAPTER  page 

I.  INTRODUCTORY 13! 

II.  HISTORICAL  WORKS — “ GEMPEI  SEISUIKI,”  “ HEIKE  MONOGA- 
TARI,”  “ MIDZU-KAGAMI,”  “ HOGEN  MONOGATARI,”  “ HEIJI 

MONOGATARI  ” 1 34 

III.  CHOMEI  AND  THE  “ HOJOKI  “ IZAYOI  NO  KI  ” — POETRY — 

WORKS  IN  CHINESE I45 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH— NAMBOKU-CHO  AND  MUROMACHI 
PERIODS  (1332-1603) 

(dark  age) 

I.  INTRODUCTORY — “ JINKOSHOTOKI  ” — “ TAIHEIKI  ” . . . 163 

II.  KENKO  AND  THE  “ TSURE-DZURE-GUSA  ” .....  184 

III.  POETRY— THE  NO  OR  LYRICAL  DRAMA — KIOGEN  OR  FARCE  . I97 

BOOK  THE  SIXTH— YEDO  PERIOD  (1603-1867) 

(REVIVAL  OF  learning) 


I.  INTRODUCTORY — “ TAIKOKI ” 217 

II.  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY — KANGAKUSHA  (CHINESE  SCHOLARS) 

— SEIKWA  AND  THE  CHU-HI  PHILOSOPHY,  YEKKEN,  HAKU- 
SEKI,  KHISO  224. 

III.  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  — POPULAR  LITERATURE — SAIKAKU, 

CHILDREN’S  STORIES — CHIKAMATSU  AND  THE  POPULAR 
DRAMA  267 

IV.  SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY  POETRY— HAIKAI,  HAIBUN,  KIOKA  . 289 

V.  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY — KANGAKUSHA — FICTION — JISHO  AND 

KISEKI — JITSUROKU-MONO — WASOBIOYE — POPULAR  DRAMA  30O 


CONTENTS  xi 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VI.  EIGHTEENTH  CENTU-RY  — THE  WAGAKUSHA  (STUDENTS  OF 
JAPANESE  ANTIQUITY) — KEICHU,  KADA,  MABUCHI,  MO- 

TOORI  315 

VII.  NINETEENTH  CENTURY — HIRATA — SH1NGAKU  SERMONS  . . 334 

VIII.  NINETEENTH-CENTURY  FICTION — ROMANTIC  SCHOOL — KIO- 
DEN,  BAKIN,  TAHEHIKO.  HUMOURISTS — SAMBA,  IKKU. 
SENTIMENTAL  NOVELS  (NINJOBON) — SHUNSUI.  WORKS  IN 
CHINESE 345 

BOOK  THE  SEVENTH— TOKIO  PERIOD  (1867-1898) 

SOME  RECENT  DEVELOPMENTS  UNDER  EUROPEAN  INFLUENCE  . 383 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE  . 
LIST  OF  DICTIONARIES,  &c. 
INDEX  . 


. 400 

• 403 

• 405 


BOOK  THE  FIRST 


ARCHAIC  PERIOD  (before  a.d.  700) 


BOOK  THE  FIRST 


ARCHAIC  PERIOD  (before  a.d.  700) 


There  are  a few  geographical  and  other  facts  which  it 
is  useful  to  bear  in  mind  in  tracing  the  history  of  Japan- 
ese literature.  If  we  glance  at  a map  of  Eastern  Asia 
we  see  that  Japan  forms  a group  of  islands  somewhat 
larger  in  superficial  area  than  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
separated  by  a narrow  strait  from  the  adjoining  con- 
tinent. Here  lies  the  peninsula  of  Corea,  inhabited  by 
a nation  distinct  from  the  Chinese  in  race  and  language, 
but  from  ancient  times  dependent  both  politically  and 
intellectually  on  its  powerful  neighbour.  Corea  has 
shown  little  originality  in  the  development  of  its  litera- 
ture or  civilisation,  and  its  chief  importance  in  connec- 
tion with  Japan  depends  on  its  geographical  position, 
which,  in  the  infancy  of  the  art  of  navigation,  made  it 
the  natural  intermediary  between  Japan  and  China. 

China,  with  its  ancient  civilisation,  its  copious  and  in 
many  respects  remarkable  literature,  and  a history 
which  goes  back  for  more  than  two  thousand  years,  has 
for  many  centuries  exercised  a commanding  influence 
over  all  its  neighbours.  What  Greece  and  Rome  have 
been  to  Europe,  China  has  been  to  the  nations  of  the 
far  East.  Japan,  in  particular,  is  very  deeply  indebted 
to  it.  There  is  no  department  of  Japanese  national 


4 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


life  and  thought,  whether  material  civilisation,  religion, 
morals,  political  organisation,  language,  or  literature, 
which  does  not  bear  traces  of  Chinese  influence. 

Beyond  China  lies  India,  which  has  furnished  one 
important  factor  in  moulding  the  literature  of  Japan, 
namety,  Buddhism.  If,  in  regard  to  Japan,  China  takes 
the  place  of  Greece  and  Rome,  Buddhism,  with  its 
softening  and  humanising  influences,  holds  a position 
similar  to  that  of  Christianity  in  the  Western  World. 
The  alternate  preponderance  of  these  two  powers  is  an 
interesting  feature  of  Japanese  history,  and  we  shall  see 
that  it  has  not  been  without  effect  upoff  the  literature. 

We  must  not,  however,  forget  the  native  genius  of  the 
Japanese  nation,  which,  in  spite  of  numerous  external 
obligations,  has  yet  retained  its  originality.  The  Japan- 
ese are  never  contented  with  simple  borrowing.  In  art, 
political  institutions,  and  even  religion,  they  are  in  the 
habit  of  modifying  extensively  everything  which  they 
adopt  from  others,  and  impressing  on  it  the  stamp  of 
the  national  mind.  It  is  the  same  with  the  literature. 
Though  enormously  indebted  to  China,  and  at  times 
hindered  in  its  natural  development  by  a too  implicit 
reliance  on  foreign  guidance,  it  has  remained  neverthe- 
less a true  index  of  the  national  character.  It  is  the 
literature  of  a brave,  courteous,  light-hearted,  pleasure- 
loving  people,  sentimental  rather  than  passionate,  witty 
and  humorous,  of  nimble  apprehension,  but  not  pro- 
found ; ingenious  and  inventive,  but  hardly  capable  of 
high  intellectual  achievement;  of  receptive  minds  en- 
dowed with  a voracious  appetite  for  knowledge ; with 
a turn  for  neatness  and  elegance  of  expression,  but  sel- 
dom or  never  rising  to  sublimity. 

The  insular  position  and  political  independence  of 


ARCHAIC  PERIOD 


5 


Japan  no  doubt  account  partially  for  the  literature  re- 
taining its  native  originality  of  character.  But  more  is 
no  doubt  due  to  a fundamental  difference  of  race  from 
the  nations  to  which  the  Japanese  have  been  indebted. 
There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  Japanese  nation  con- 
tains an  aboriginal  Polynesian  element  (which  some 
writers  call  Malay),  but  the  evidence  of  language  and 
anthropology  is  Conclusive  that  it  is  in  the  main  a con- 
tinental race,  quite  distinct,  however,  from  the  Chinese. 
It  must  have  come  from  a more  northerly  region,  and 
geographical  considerations  point  distinctly  to  Corea 
as  the  point  of  embarkation.  Beyond  this  it  is  safer 
not  to  go.  Nor  need  we  attempt  to  fix  any  date  for 
their  migration.  Native  tradition  is  silent  on  the  sub- 
ject, or  rather  assumes  that  the  Japanese  are  aborigines. 
The  process  of  colonisation  probably  extended  over 
centuries,  and  the  numerous  immigrations  from  Corea 
to  Japan  in  historical  times  are  no  doubt  simply  a con- 
tinuation of  the  same  movement. 

The  first  historical  fact  to  be  gleaned  from  the  legen- 
dary stories  which  have  been  preserved  to  us  in  the  an- 
cient Japanese  annals  is  an  invasion  of  the  central  part 
of  the  country,  already  settled  by  men  of  Japanese  race, 
by  a conquering  army  from  the  western  island  of 
Kiushiu.  Their  leader,  Jimmu  Tenno,  who  is  recog- 
nised as  the  first  Mikado,  established  his  capital  in  the 
province  of  Yamato  at  a time  which  it  is  best  to  indi- 
cate vaguely  as  a few  centuries  before  the  Christian 
epoch.  Here,  or  in  one  of  the  adjoining  provinces,  his 
successors  reigned  for  many  centuries,  each  Mikado 
building  himself  a palace  and  founding  a capital  in  a 
fresh  locality.  A semi-nomad  arrangement  of  this  kind 
is  obviously  incompatible  with  much  advance  in  civili- 


6 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


sation.  It  was  not  until  the  capital  was  established  on 
a more  permanent  footing  at  Nara,  in  the  beginning  of 
the  eighth  century,  that  any  substantial  progress  was 
made  in  literature  and  the  arts. 

Although  the  Archaic  period  has  left  us  but  few  literary 
monuments,  it  is  marked  by  two  events  of  prime  import- 
ance for  the  development  of  literature  in  Japan.  One  is 
the  introduction  of  the  art  of  writing,  with  which  was 
associated  an  acquaintance  with  the  literature  and  his- 
tory of  China;  and  the  other  the  first  propagation  of  the 
Buddhist  religion.  Both  came,  in  the  first  place,  from 
Corea,  which  had  received  them  from  China  no  long 
time  before.  Until  they  became  acquainted  with  Chinese 
the  Japanese  had  no  written  character.  It  is  probable 
that  individuals  had  acquired  some  knowledge  of  the 
Chinese  language  and  script  early  in  the  Christian  era, 
but  the  first  actual  mention  of  the  study  of  Chinese  in 
Japan  belongs  to  a.d.  405.  In  this  year  a Corean  named 
Wangin  was  appointed  tutor  in  Chinese  to  a Japanese 
Imperial  Prince.  He  was  the  first  of  a succession  of 
teachers  from  Corea  whose  instructions  paved  the  way 
for  a revolution  in  Japanese  customs  and  institutions,  not 
less  profound  and  far-reaching  than  that  which  we  have 
witnessed  in  our  own  day  as  the  result  of  an  acquaint- 
ance with  Western  civilisation  and  science. 

Buddhism  was  introduced  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  later — in  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century — but  it 
was  not  until  the  seventh  that  it  made  much  progress. 
Its  real  founder  in  Japan  was  the  Imperial  Prince  Shotoku 
Daishi,  who  died  a.d.  621. 

In  the  scanty  remains  of  the  period  with  which  we  are 
now  dealing,  there  is  scarce  any  trace  either  of  Buddhist 
or  of  Chinese  influences.  It  may  be  said  that  the  Kiujiki , 
a historical  work  attributed  to  the  Prince  just  mentioned, 


SONGS 


7 

should  be  reckoned  an*exception  to  this  statement.  But 
its  authenticity  has  been  questioned  ; and,  in  any  case, 
it  is  in  the  Chinese  language,  and  therefore,  properly 
speaking,  forms  no  part  of  Japanese  literature. 

Songs. 

The  oldest  relics  of  the  genuine  native  literature  of 
Japan  are  a series  of  songs  contained  in  the  ancient 
annals  known  as  the  Kojiki  and  Nihongi , and  the  Norito 
or  liturgies  of  the  Shinto,  or  native  Japanese  religion. 

These  songs  are  associated  with  some  historical  or 
quasi-historical  incident,  and  are  ascribed  to  Mikados 
or  other  distinguished  personages.  Several  of  them  are 
attributed  to  Jimmu  Tenno,  who  is  said  to  have  founded 
the  Japanese  monarchy  in  660  B.C.,  and  equally  fictitious 
accounts  are  given  of  others.  Probably  we  shall  not  be 
far  wrong  if  we  assign  most  of  the  poems  of  the  Kojiki 
and  Nihongi  to  the  latter  part  of  the  Archaic  period, 
namely,  to  the  sixth  and  seventh  centuries  of  our  era. 

The  poetry  of  this  time  possesses  a certain  philological 
and  archaeological  interest,  but  its  merit  as  literature  is 
small.  The  language  is  still  unformed,  and  there  is  a 
plentiful  lack  of  imagination  and  of  the  other  higher 
qualities  of  poetry.  What,  for  example,  can  be  more 
primitive  than  the  following  war-song,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  chanted  by  Jimmu  Tenno’s  soldiers,  and 
which,  the  author  of  the  Nihongi  informs  us,  was  still 
sung  by  the  Imperial  Guards  in  his  own  day  ? 

“ Ho  ! now  is  the  time  ; 

Ho  ! now  is  the  time  ; 

Ha  ! Ha  ! Psha  / 

Even  now 
My  boys  ! 

Even  now 
My  boys  ! " 


s JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Or  this,  which  is  dated  90  B.c.  ? 

“ The  Hall  of  Miwa 
(Of  sweet  sake  fame). 

Even  at  morn  its  door 
Let  us  push  open — 

The  door  of  the  Hall  of  Miwa.” 

Sake,  it  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  explained,  is  an  intoxi- 
cating liquor  brewed  from  rice.  The  sentiment  of  this 
song  therefore  recalls  our  own  “ We  won’t  go  home  till 
morning.” 

The  following,  which  is 'said  to  have  been  composed 
by  the  Mikado  Ojin,  a.d.  282,  but  which  more  probably 
belongs  to  the  sixth  century,  may  serve  to  indicate  the 
highest  level  to  which  poetry  attained  during  this  period. 
This  Mikado  was  about  to  add  to  his  harem  a beautiful 
woman  named  Kami-naga-hime,  or  the  “ long-haired 
maid,”  when  he  discovered  that  his  son  had  fallen  vio- 
lently in  love  with  her.  He  invited  them  both  to  a 
banquet,  and  then  surprised  his  son  by  resigning  to  him 
the  lady  with  the  following  words  : — 

“ Lo  ! my  soft ! 

On  the  moor , garlic  to  gather, 

Garlic  to  gather. 

On  the  way  as  I went , 

Pleasing  of  perfume 
Was  the  orange  in  flower. 

Its  branches  beneath 
Men  had  all  plundered , 

Its  branches  above 

Birds  perching  had  withered , 

Midway  its  branches 
Held  in  their  hiding 
A blushing  maiden. 

Lo  ! my  son , for  thee 
Let  her  burst  into  blossom.” 


SHINTO  RITUALS 


9 


The  Kojiki  and  Nihongi  have  preserved  to  us  more 
than  two  hundred  of  these  poems.  Their  study  tends 
to  correct  ideas  such  as  that  of  Macaulay,  who,  doubt- 
less reasoning  from  the  now  exploded  premiss  that 
Homer  is  a primitive  poet,  argued  that  “ in  a rude 
state  of  society  we  may  expect  to  find  the  poetical 
temperament  in  its  highest  perfection.”  Judging  from 
this  early  poetry  of  Japan,  a want  of  culture  by  no 
means  acts  as  a stimulus  to  the  poetic  faculty.  We 
nowhere  find  “ the  agony,  the  ecstasy,  the  plenitude  of 
belief,”  which  Macaulay  would  have  us  look  for  in  this 
product  of  an  age  and  country  which  were  certainly 
far  less  advanced  than  those  of  Homer  in  intellectual 
culture.  Instead  of  passion,  sublimity,  and  a vigorous 
imagination,  we  have  little  more  than  mild  sentiment, 
word-plays,  and  pretty  conceits.  Moreover,  a suspicion 
will  not  be  banished  that  even  for  such  poetical  quali- 
ties as  they  possess,  these  poems  are  in  some  degree 
indebted  to  the  inspiration  of  China.  Of  this,  however, 
I can  not  offer  any  definite  proof. 

Shinto  Rituals. 

The  prose  of  the  Archaic  period  is  represented  by  a 
series  of  Norito,1  or  prayers  to  the  deities  of  the  Shinto 
religion,  which  were  recited  with  much  ceremony  by 
the  Nakatomi,  a hereditary  corporation  of  court  officials 
whose  especial  function  it  was  to  represent  the  Mikado  in 
his  capacity  of  high  priest  of  the  nation.  Their  precise 
date  and  authorship  are  unknown.  In  their  essence  they 
are  no  doubt  of  very  great  antiquity,  but  there  is  reason 

1 Vide  Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  fapan , March  1879,  &c., 
for  a translation  of  some  of  these  by  Sir  Ernest  Satow. 


IO 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


to  believe  that  they  did  not  assume  their  present  form 
until  the  seventh  century,  some  of  them  perhaps  even 
later.  The  Norito  are  not  known  to  have  been  commit- 
ted to  writing  before  the  period  Yengi  (901-923),  when 
the  preparation  was  begun  of  the  work  entitled  Yengi- 
shiki  or  “ Institutes  of  Yengi,”  a collection  of  the  ceremo- 
nial regulations  in  force  at  this  time.  The  Yengishiki 
enumerates  seventy-five  of  these  prayers,  and  gives  the 
text  of  twenty-seven,  which,  no  doubt,  comprise  all  the 
most  important.  There  are  prayers  for  a good  harvest, 
deprecating  fire  and  pestilence,  invoking  blessings  on 
the  palace,  services  in  honour  of  the  Food  Goddess,  the 
Wind  Deities,  and  so  on.  The  most  famous  of  all  is 
the  Oharai  or  General  Purification  Service.  It  is  not 
devoid  of  literary  quality,  as  the  following  translation 
may  perhaps  indicate.  The  other  Norito  which  I have 
read  are  much  inferior  in  merit. 

“ Give  ear,  all  ye  Imperial  Princes,  Ministers  of  State, 
and  high  functionaries,  who  are  here  assembled,  and 
hearken  to  the  great  purification  by  which  at  this  inter- 
lune  of  the  sixth  month  are  purged  and  washed  away  all 
sins  which  may  have  been  committed  by  Imperial  offi- 
cials and  attendants — whether  they  wear  the  scarf  [wom- 
en] or  the  shoulder  strap  [stewards]  ; whether  they 
bear  on  their  back  the  bow,  or  gird  on  them  the  sword. 

“ Of  yore,  our  Imperial  ancestors  who  dwell  in  the  plain 
of  high  heaven,  summoned  to  an  assembly  the  eight 
hundred  myriads  of  deities,  and  held  divine  counsel 
with  them.  And  they  gave  command,  saying,  4 Let  our 
August  Grandchild  hold  serene  rule  over  the  land  of  fair 
rice-ears — the  fertile  reed-plain.’  But  in  the  land  thus 
delivered  to  him  there  were  savage  deities.  These  they 
chastised  with  a divine  chastisement,  and  expelled  with  a 


SHINTO  RITUALS 


1 1 

divine  expulsion.  Moreover,  the  rocks,  trees,  and  leaves 
of  grass  which  had  the  power  of  speech,  were  silenced. 
Then  they  despatched  him  downward  from  his  celestial, 
everlasting  throne,  cleaving  as  he  went  with  an  awful 
way-cleaving  the  many-piled  clouds  of  heaven.  Here 
at  the  middle  point  of  the  land  entrusted  to  him — in 
Yamato,  the  High  Sun  Land — the  August  Grandchild 
established  his  peaceful  rule  and  built  a fair  palace, 
basing  deep  on  the  nethermost  rock  the  massy  pillars, 
and  upraising  to  high  heaven  the  timbers  of  the  roof 
wherewithal  to  shelter  him  from  sun  and  sky. 

“ Now,  of  the  various  offences  to  be  committed  by  the 
celestial  race  destined  more  and  more  to  people  this  land 
of  peaceful  rule,  some  are  of  heaven  and  others  of  earth. 
Heavenly  offences  are  the  breaking  down  of  divisions 
between  rice-fields,  filling  up  of  water-courses,  removing 
water-pipes,  flaying  alive,  flaying  backwards.  . . . Earth- 
ly offences  are  the  cutting  of  living  bodies,  the  cutting 
of  dead  bodies,  leprosy,  incest,  calamities  from  creep- 
ing things,  from  the  high  gods  and  from  high  birds,  kill- 
ing of  cattle,  bewitchments. 

“ Whensoever  these  offences  are  committed,  for  com- 
mitted they  will  be,  let  the  great  Nakatomi  clip  heavenly 
twigs  at  the  top  and  clip  them  at  the  bottom,  making 
thereof  a complete  array  of  one  thousand  stands  for 
offerings.  Having  trimmed  rushes  of  heaven  at  the  top 
and  trimmed  them  at  the  bottom,  let  them  split  them 
into  a manifold  brush.  Then  let  them  recite  this  great 
liturgy. 

“ When  they  do  so,  the  gods  of  heaven,  thrusting  open 
the  adamantine  doors  of  heaven  and  cleaving  the  many- 
piled  clouds  of  heaven  with  an  awful  way-cleaving,  will 
approach  and  lend  ear.  The  gods  of  earth,  ascending 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


I 2 

to  the  tops  of  the  high  mountains  and  the  tops  of  the 
low  mountains,  sweeping  aside  the  mists  of  the  high 
mountains  and  the  mists  of  the  low  mountains,  will 
approach  and  lend  ear. 

“ Then  shall  no  offences  remain  unpurged,  from  the 
court  of  the  august  child  of  the  gods  even  to  the  remotest 
ends  of  the  realm.  As  the  many-piled  clouds  of  heaven 
are  scattered  at  the  breath  of  the  Wind  Gods;  as  the 
morning  breezes  and  the  evening  breezes  disperse  the 
morning  vapours  and  the  evening  vapours  ; as  a huge 
ship  moored  in  a great  harbour,  casting  off  its  stern 
moorings,  casting  off  its  bow  moorings,  drives  forth  into 
the  vast  ocean  ; as  yonder  thick  brushwood  is  smitten 
and  cleared  away  by  the  sharp  sickle  forged  in  the  fire — 
so  shall  all  offences  be  swept  utterly  away.  To  purge 
and  purify  them,  let  the  goddess  Seoritsu-hime,  who 
dwells  in  the  rapids  of  the  swift  stream  whose  cataracts 
tumble  headlong  from  the  high  mountains  and  from  the 
low  mountains,  bear  them  out  into  the  great  sea  plain. 
There  let  the  goddess  Haya-akitsu-hime,  who  dwells  in 
the  myriad  ways  of  the  tides  of  the  raging  sea,  and  in 
the  myriad  meeting-places  of  the  tides  of  the  myriad 
sea  paths,  swallow  them  up,  and  let  the  god  Ibukido 
Nushi  [the  master  of  the  spurting-out  place],  who  dwells 
in  Ibukido,  spurt  them  out  away  to  the  nether  region. 
Then  let  the  goddess  Haya-sasura-hime,  who  dwells  in 
the  nether  region,  dissolve  and  destroy  them. 

“ They  are  now  destroyed,  and  all,  from  the  servants 
of  the  Imperial  court  down  to  the  people  in  the  four 
quarters  of  the  realm,  are  from  this  day  forth  void  of 
offence. 

“ Attend,  all  of  you,  with  ears  pricked  up  to  the  plain 
of  high  heaven,  to  this  great  purification  by  which,  on 


SHINTO  RITUALS 


13 

this  interlune  of  the  sixth  month  as  the  sun  goes  down, 
your  offences  are  purged  and  purified.” 

The  Norito,  although  prose,  are  in  some  respects 
more  poetical  than  much  of  the  contemporary  poetry. 
This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the  general  question 
whether  literature  begins  with  prose  or  poetry.  It  may 
be  noted,  however,  that  the  earliest  Japanese  literature 
presents  two  imperfectly  differentiated  types — a poetry 
which  in  metrical  form,  thought,  and  diction,  is  not  far 
removed  from  prose  ; and  prose  compositions  which 
contain  an  appreciable  element  of  poetry. 


BOOK  THE  SECOND 


NARA  PERIOD  (EIGHTH  CENTURY) 


BOOK  THE  SECOND 


NARA  PERIOD 1 ( EIGHTH  CENTURY) 


CHAPTER  I 

PROSE  OF  THE  NARA  PERIOD— THE  “KOJIKI” 

Strictly  speaking,  this  period  begins  a.d.  710,  when 
Nara  was  made  the  seat  of  the  Mikado’s  government,  and 
ends  A.D.  794,  when  the  capital  was  removed  to  Nagaoka, 
in  the  province  of  Yamashiro,  a site  which  was  aban- 
doned a few  years  later  for  that  of  the  existing  city  of 
Kioto.  For  the  present  purpose  it  is  sufficiently  accu- 
rate to  make  the  Nara  period  coincide  with  the  eighth 
century. 

With  the  establishment  of  the  capital  at  Nara,  the 
old  system  by  which  every  Mikado  built  himself  a new 
palace  in  a fresh  locality  was  discontinued.  This  was 
not  only  in  itself  an  important  progressive  measure, 
but  it  was  an  evidence  of  the  advance  in  civilisation 
which  had  been  made  during  the  previous  two  centuries. 
Under  the  influence  of  Chinese  political  ideas,  the 

1 I have  followed  the  convenient  Japanese  practice  of  calling  the  periods  of 
history  by  the  names  of  the  places  which  were  the  seat  of  government  at  the 
time. 


17 


i 8 JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

authority  of  the  crown  had  become  greatly  extended,  the 
power  of  the  hereditary  local  chieftains  broken,  and  a 
system  of  government  instituted  under  prefects  who  held 
office  subject  to  the  control  of  the  central  authority. 
Learning,  by  which  in  Japan  is,  or  rather  was,  meant  the 
study  of  the  masterpieces  of  Chinese  antiquity,  had  made 
great  progress.  The  Mikado  Tenchi  (662-671)  established 
schools,  and  we  hear  later  of  a university  under  govern- 
ment auspices  which  comprised  four  faculties,  viz., 
history,  the  Chinese  classics,  law,  and  arithmetic. 

This,  it  should  be  observed,  was  for  the  benefit  of  the 
official  classes  only.  It  was  not  until  many  centuries 
later  that  education  reached  the  common  people.  There 
were  also  teachers  (mostly  Coreans)  of  painting,  medicine, 
and  the  glyptic  arts.  The  colossal  bronze  statue  of 
Buddha  and  some  remarkable  sculptures  in  wood  which 
are  still  to  be  seen  at  Nara,  testify  to  the  skill  which  the 
Japanese  had  then  acquired  in  the  last-named  arts. 

Of  even  greater  importance  was  the  advance  in  the  art 
of  architecture.  This  was  intimately  associated  with 
Buddhism,  a cult  which  demanded  stately  temples  and 
pagodas  for  its  due  exercise.  The  increased  authority  of 
the  court  also  required  edifices  more  befitting  its  dignity 
and  more  in  consonance  with  the  gorgeous  costumes 
and  ceremonial  adopted  from  China  than  the  old  one- 
reign  palaces. 

The  first  written  book  which  has  come  down  to  us  in 
the  Japanese,  or  indeed  in  any  Turanian  tongue,  is  the 
Kojiki 1 or  “ Records  of  Ancient  Matters,"  which  was 
completed  A.D.  712.  It  contains  the  early  traditions  of 
the  Japanese  race,  beginning  with  the  myths  which  form 

1 Translated  by  B.  H.  Chamberlain  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Asiatic 
Society  of  Japan , 1882;  vol.  x.,  Supplement. 


KOJIKI  19 

the  basis  of  the  Shinto  religion,  and  acquiring  more  and 
more  of  a historical  character  as  it  proceeds,  until  it 
comes  to  a close  in  A.D.  628. 

The  Kojiki , however  valuable  it  may  be  for  research 
into  the  mythology,  the  manners,  the  language,  and  the 
legends  of  early  Japan,  is  a very  poor  production,  whether 
we  consider  it  as  literature  or  as  a record  of  facts.  As 
history  it  cannot  compare  with  the  Nihongi , a contem- 
porary work  in  Chinese  ; while  the  language  is  a strange 
mixture  of  Chinese  and  Japanese,  which  there  has  been 
little  attempt  to  endue  with  artistic  quality.  The  circum- 
stances under  which  it  was  composed  are  a partial 
explanation  of  the  very  curious  style  in  which  it  is 
written.  We  are  told  that  a man  named  Yasumaro, 
learned  in  Chinese,  took  it  down  from  the  lips  of  a 
certain  Hiyeda  no  Are,  who  had  such  a wonderful 
memory  that  he  “ could  repeat  with  his  mouth  whatever 
was  placed  before  his  eyes,  and  record  in  his  heart  what- 
ever struck  his  ears.”  Yasumaro’s  task  was  not  an  easy 
one.  He  himself  in  his  preface  describes  his  embarrass- 
ment. The  phonetic  syllabaries,  known  as  the  Katagana 
and  Hirakana,  which  correspond  to  our  alphabet,  had 
not  then  been  invented.  The  only  choice  open  to  him 
was  to  use  the  Chinese  ideographic  symbols,  giving  them 
their  proper  meaning  and  construction — in  other  words, 
to  write  pure  Chinese — or  to  make  each  Chinese  character 
represent  merely  the  sound  associated  with  it  regardless 
of  its  meaning.  The  result  of  this  latter  course  would 
be  a Japanese  text. 

By  the  former  method  it  was  impossible  to  write  down 
Japanese  poetry,  proper  names,  and  a quantity  of  phrases 
and  expressions  for  which  there  existed  no  adequate 
Chinese  equivalent ; while  if  a separate  Chinese  character 


20  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

had  to  be  used  for  every  syllable  of  the  polysyllabic 
Japanese  words,  a prolixity  intolerable  to  a mind  formed 
by  Chinese  study  would  be  the  result.  In  this  dilemma 
Yasumaro  resorted  to  a compromise,  and  mixed  up  the 
two  systems  in  a way  which  is  fatal  to  style.  Even  in 
the  same  sentence  we  often  find  a purely  Japanese  con- 
struction interrupted  by  a phrase  which  it  is  impossible 
to  consider  as  anything  but  clumsy  Chinese  ; while,  vice 
versa , his  Chinese  contains  expressions  not  to  be  under- 
stood without  a knowledge  of  Japanese. 

At  the  time  of  the  compilation  of  the  Kojiki  there 
existed  at  the  court  of  Nara  a hereditary  corporation  of 
Kataribe  or  “reciters,”  whose  function  it  was  to  recite 
“ancient  words”  before  the  Mikado  on  certain  solemn 
State  occasions,  such  as  the  beginning  of  a new  reign. 
Even  if  Yasumaro's  informant  was  not  himself  a member 
of  this  order,  he  must  have  been  well  acquainted  with 
the  matter  of  their  recitals,  and  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  the  myths,  legends,  and  quasi-history  of  the  Kojiki 
were  drawn  from  this  source.  There  is  no  reason  what- 
ever to  believe  that  the  recitations  of  the  Kataribe  were 
anything  but  prose.  We  are  in  possession  of  a consider- 
able body  of  poetry  belonging  to  this  period,  but  none 
of  it  takes  the  form  of  narrative.  It  consists  of  lyrics, 
not  ballads,  and  yields  no  material  for  history,  whether 
true  or  otherwise.  The  annals  of  Japanese  literature 
therefore  give  no  countenance  to  Macaulay's  theory  tfiat 
in  the  natural  course  of  things  history  is  preceded  by 
ballad  poetry.  So  far  from  its  being  true  of  Japan,  a 
directly  opposite  process  is  observable.  At  a later  period, 
history  showed  some  tendency  to  develop  into  poetry. 
It  began  to  be  treated  in  an  ornate,  romantic  fashion, 
and  with  some  imperfect  endeavour  after  metrical  form. 


KOJIKI 


21 

The  motley  character  of  the  language  of  the  Kojiki 
of  course  disappears  in  a translation,  but  the  following 
passage  may  give  some  idea  of  the  sort  of  legends  which 
form  the  staple  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  work.  The 
student  of  folk-lore  will  recognise  in  it  one  of  the 
numerous  variants  of  what  in  its  Greek  form  is  the 
story  of  Perseus  arid  Andromeda. 

The  god  Haya-Susa  no  wo,  having  been  banished  from 
heaven  for  his  misdeeds,  descends  to  earth  and  alights 
on  the  bank  of  a river  in  the  province  of  Idzumo.  He 
observes  a chopstick  floating  down  with  the  current  : — 

“ His  Augustness  Haya-Susa  no  wo,  thinking  that  there 
must  be  people  living  farther  up  the  stream,  went  in 
quest  of  them,  and  found  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman 
weeping,  with  a young  maiden  set  between  them.  He 
asked  of  them,  ‘ Who  are  ye  ? ' The  old  man  replied, 
* Thy  servant  is  a deity  of  earth,  and  his  name  is 
Ashinadzuchi,  son  of  the  great  God  of  the  Mountain. 
My  wife's  name  is  Tenadzuchi,  and  my  daughter  is  called 
Kushinada  hime.'  He  further  inquired,  ‘ Why  weep 
ye  ? ’ He  answered,  saying,  * I have  had  eight  children, 
girls  ; but  the  eight-forked  serpent  of  Koshi  came  year 
after  year  and  devoured  them.  It  is  now  the  time  of  its 
coming,  and  therefore  do  we  weep.'  ‘ Describe  to  me 
this  serpent,'  said  Haya-Susa  no  wo.  1 Its  eyes  are  as 
red  as  the  winter  cherry.  It  has  one  body  with  eight 
heads  and  eight  tails.  Moreover,  its  body  is  overgrown 
with  moss,  pines,  and  cedars.  Its  length  extends  over 
eight  valleys  and  eight  hills.  Its  belly  is  always  all 
bloody  and  inflamed  to  look  upon.'  * Then  his  August- 
ness Haya-Susa  no  wo  said  to  the  old  man,  1 If  this  be  thy 
daughter,  wilt  thou  give  her  unto  me  ? ' ‘ With  reverence 
be  it  said/  replied  the  old  man,  ‘ I know  not  thy  honour- 
3 


22  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

able  name.'  1 I am  the  elder  brother  of  the  Sun  Goddess, 
and  have  now  come  down  from  heaven,'  replied  Susa 
no  wo.  Then  the  deities  Ashinadzuchi  and  Tenadzuchi 
said,  1 In  that  case,  with  reverence  we  offer  her  to  thee.' 
Haya-Susa  no  wo  straightway  took  that  young  maiden 
and  changed  her  into  a many-toothed  comb,  which  he 
stuck  into  his  hair,  and  said  to  the  deities  Ashinadzuchi 
and  Tenadzuchi,  1 Do  ye  brew  some  sake  of  eight-fold 
strength.  Also  make  a fence  round  about,  and  in  thatv 
fence  let  there  be  eight  doors,  at  each  door  let  there  be 
eight  stands,  on  each  stand  let  there  be  a sake-tub,  and 
let  each  sake-tub  be  filled  with  the  sake  of  eight-fold 
strength.  Then  wait.'  So  having  prepared  everything 
in  accordance  with  his  august  bidding,  they  waited, 
Then  the  eight-forked  serpent  came,  indeed,  as  had  been 
said,  and  bending  down  one  head  into  each  of  the  tubs, 
lapped  up  the  sake.  Hereupon  it  became  drunken,  and 
all  the  heads  lay  down  to  sleep,  when  straightway  Haya- 
Susa  no  wo  drew  his  ten-span  sword  from  his  girdle  and 
slew  the  serpent,  so  that  the  river  had  its  current 
changed  to  blood.  Now,  when  he  cut  the  middle  part 
of  the  tail  the  edge  of  his  august  sword  was  broken. 
Wondering  at  this,  he  pierced  it  and  split  it  open,  when 
he  found  that  within  there  was  a great  sharp  sword.  He 
took  this  sword,  and  thinking  it  a wonderful  thing, 
reported  his  discovery  to  the  Sun  Goddess.  This  is  the 
great  sword  Kusanagi  (Herb-queller). " 

In  the  early  part  of  the  eighth  century  the  Japanese 
Government  gave  orders  for  the  compilation  of  geogra- 
phical descriptions  of  all  the  provinces.  The  mineral, 
vegetable,  and  animal  productions  were  to  be  noted, 
with  the  quality  of  the  soil,  the  origin  of  the  names  of 
places,  and  the  local  traditions.  Of  these  works  only  a 


TOPOGRAPHY 


23 


few  have  reached  us,  the  best  known  of  which  is  the 
Idzumo  Fudoki,  written  in  733.  It  contains  a very  few 
interesting  legendary  passages,  but  as  a whole  it  consists 
of  bald  statements  of  fact,  and  must  be  classed  with 
Charles  Lamb’s  Biblia  Abiblia  or  “ Books  that  are  No 
Books.”  It  was  the  forerunner  of  the  very  considerable 
modern  topographical  literature  known  to  us  as  Meisho. 

The  only  other  Japanese  prose  compositions  of  this 
time  which  need  be  noticed  are  the  Imperial  Edicts  con- 
tained in  the  Shoku-7iihongi}  a continuation  (in  Chinese) 
of  the  Nihongi.  Their  style  much  resembles  that  of  the 
Norito . Motoori  has  edited  them  in  a separate  form 
with  a commentary. 


CHAPTER  II 


JAPANESE  POETRY  GENERALLY— 

THE  “MANYOSHIU  ” 

BEFORE  proceeding  to  an  examination  of  the  Nara 
poetry,  it  seems  desirable  to  give  an  account  of  those 
characteristics  of  Japanese  poetry  generally  which  dis- 
tinguish it  in  a conspicuous  manner  from  that  of  Europe. 
Narrow  in  its  scope  and  resources,  it  is  chiefly  remark- 
able for  its  limitations — for  what  it  has  not,  rather  than 
for  what  it  has.  In  the  first  place  there  are  no  long 
poems.  There  is  nothing  which  even  remotely  resembles 
an  epic  — no  Iliad  or  Divina  Comrnedia  — not  even  a 
Nibelungen  Lied  or  Chevy  Chase.  Indeed,  narrative 
poems  of  any  kind  are  short  and  very  few,  the  only  ones 
which  I have  met  with  being  two  or  three  ballads  of  a 
sentimental  cast.  Didactic,  philosophical,  political,  and 
satirical  poems  are  also  conspicuously  absent.  The 
Japanese  muse  does  not  meddle  with  such  subjects,  and 
it  is  doubtful  whether,  if  it  did,  the  native  Pegasus 
possesses  sufficient  staying  power  for  them  to  be  dealt 
with  adequately.  For  dramatic  poetry  we  have  to  wait 
until  the  fourteenth  century.  Even  then  there  are  no 
complete  dramatic  poems,  but  only  dramas  containing 
a certain  poetical  element. 

Japanese  poetry  is,  in  short,  confined  to  lyrics,  and  what, 

24 


POETRY 


25 


for  want  of  a better  word,  may  be  called  epigrams.  It  is 
primarily  an  expression  of  emotion.  We  have  amatory 
verse,  poems  of  longing  for  home  and  absent  dear  ones, 
praise  of  love  and  wine,  elegies  on  the  dead,  laments  over 
the  uncertainty  of  life.  A chief  place  is  given  to  the 
beauties  of  external  nature.  The  varying  aspects  of  the 
seasons,  the  sound  of  purling  streams,  the  snow  on 
Mount  Fuji,  waves  breaking  on  the  beach,  seaweed  drift- 
ing to  the  shore,  the  song  of  birds,  the  hum  of  insects, 
even  the  croaking  of  frogs,  the  leaping  of  trout  in  a 
mountain  stream,  the  young  shoots  of  the  fern  in  spring, 
the  belling  of  deer  in  autumn,  the  red  tints  of  the  maple, 
moon,  flowers,  rain,  wind,  mist,  these  are  among  the 
favourite  subjects  which  the  Japanese  poet  delights  to 
dwell  upon.  If  we  add  some  courtly  and  patriotic 
effusions,  a vast  number  of  conceits  more  or  less  pretty, 
and  a very  few  poems  of  a religious  cast,  the  enumera- 
tion is  tolerably  complete.  But,  as  Mr.  Chamberlain 
has  observed,  there  are  curious  omissions.  Sunsets  and 
starry  skies,  for  example,  do  not  appear  to  have  attracted 
attention.  War-songs,  strange  to  say,  are  almost  wholly 
absent.  Fighting  and  bloodshed  are  apparently  not 
considered  fit  themes  for  poetry. 

It  is  not  only  in  its  form  and  subject-matter  that 
Japanese  poetry  is  limited  in  its  scope.  The  modern 
poet  of  Europe  makes  free  use  of  the  works  of  the 
Greek  and  Roman  poets  as  models  and  as  storehouses 
of  poetic  imagery.  Much  of  his  very  language  comes 
from  the  same  source.  But  the  poets  of  Japan  have 
deliberately  refrained  from  utilising  in  this  way  the  only 
literature  which  was  known  to  them.  That  their  refine- 
ment of  language  and  choice  of  subjects  are  in  some 
measure  due  to  an  acquaintance  with  the  ancient  liter  a 


26 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ture  of  China  is  hardly  open  to  question,  but  they  allow 
few  outward  signs  of  it  to  appear.  Allusions  to  Chinese 
literature  and  history,  although  not  wholly  absent,  are 
unfrequent,  and  the  use  of  Chinese  words  is  strictly 
tabooed  in  all  poetry  of  the  classical  type.  There  was  a 
substantial  reason  for  this  prohibition.  The  phonetic 
character  of  the  two  languages  is  quite  different.  Chinese 
is  monosyllabic  ; Japanese  as  polysyllabic  as  English.  A 
Chinese  syllable  has  far  more  complication  and  variety 
than  those  of  Japanese  words.  It  may  have  diphthongs, 
combinations  of  consonants  and  final  consonants,  none 
of  which  are  to  be  found  in  Japanese,  where  every 
syllable  consists  of  a single  vowel  or  of  a single  con- 
sonant followed  by  a single  vowel.  It  is  true  that  the 
Japanese,  in  adopting  Chinese  vocables,  modify  them 
to  suit  their  own  phonetic  system.  But  the  process  of 
assimilation  is  incomplete.  The  two  elements  harmonise 
no  better  than  brick  and  stone  in  the  same  building.  It 
was  most  natural,  therefore,  for  the  Japanese  to  refuse 
these  half-naturalised  aliens  admission  to  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  their  national  poetry,  although  by  so  doing  they 
sacrificed  much  in  fulness  and  variety  of  expression,  and 
deprived  themselves  of  a copious  store  of  illustration 
and  allusion  to  which  their  prose  writers  resort  even  too 
freely. 

The  acknowledged  euphony  and  ease  of  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  Japanese  language  is  greatly  owing  to  that 
property  of  the  syllable  which  has  just  been  described. 
Even  a reader  who  knows  no  Japanese  may  appreciate 
the  euphonic  quality  of  the  following  : — 


POETRY 


<\  V’*v 

s 


“ Idete  iiiaba 
Nushi  naki  y ado  to 
Narinu  tomo 
Nokiba  no  ume  yo 
Haru  wo  zuasurunad 1 


27 


But  it  is  at  the  same  time  a source  01  weakness.  It 
makes  smooth  versification  almost  a matter  of  course, 
but  it  also  renders  impossible  much  variety  or  force  of 
rhythm.  The  Japanese  poet  can  hardly  do  otherwise 
than  obey  Pope's  precept  : — 


“ Then  all  your  Muse's  softer  art  display , 

Let  Carolina  smooth  the  tuneful  lay , 

Lull  with  A melias  liquid  name  the  lined 

The  whole  language  is  composed  of  words  made  up, 
like  Carolina  and  Amelia,  of  syllables  with  open  vowels 
preceded  by  single  consonants  or  none.  Nor  is  he 
under  any  temptation  to 

“ Rend  with  tremendous  sound  your  ears  asunder 

With  gun , drum , trumpet , blunderbuss , atid  thunder d 


His  phonetic  resources  simply  will  not  admit  of  it. 
Pope  further  advises  that 

“ When  loud  surges  lash  the  sounding  shore. 

The  hoarse  rough  verse  should  like  a torrent  roar. 

When  Ajax  strives  some  rocFs  vast  weight  to  throw , 

The  line  too  labours  and  the  words  move  slowd 


1 The  initial  i of  inaba  is  elided. 
Translation  : — 

“ When  I am  gone  away , 
Masterless  my  dwelling 
Though  it  become — 

Oh  ! plum  tree  by  the  eaves , 
Forget  not  thou  the  springd 


28 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


But  it  is  vain  for  the  Japanese  poet  to  strive  to  adopt 
this  counsel.  With  a language  like  the  old  Japanese  it 
is  only  within  the  narrowest  limits  that  it  is  possible  to 
make  the  sound  an  echo  to  the  sense.  It  is  probably  in 
some  measure  to  the  want  of  variety  of  rhythm  which 
results  from  this  quality  that  the  preference  of  the 
national  genius  for  short  poems  is  due. 

The  mechanism  of  Japanese  verse  is  simple  in  the 
extreme.  Unlike  Chinese,  it  has  no  rhyme,  a want  which 
is  plainly  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  Japanese  syllable 
described  above.  As  every  syllable  ends  in  a vowel, 
and  as  there  are  only  five  vowels,  there  could  only  be 
five  rhymes,  the  constant  reiteration  of  which  would  be 
intolerably  monotonous. 

In  the  Japanese  poetical  language  all  the  vowels  are 
of  the  same  length,  so  that  quantity,  such  as  we  find 
in  the  poetry  of  Greece  and  Rome,  is  unknown.  Nor 
is  there  any  regular  succession  of  accented  and  un- 
accented syllables  as  in  the  poetry  of  modern  Europe,  the 
Japanese  laying  hardly  any  greater  stress  on  one  part  of 
a word  than  on  another.  In  short,  the  only  thing  in 
the  mechanism  of  Japanese  poetry  which  distinguishes 
it  from  prose  is  the  alternation  of  phrases  of  five  and 
seven  syllables  each . It  is,  in  fact,  a species  of  blank 
verse. 

Some  Japanese  critics  seem  to  think  that  the  numbers 
five  and  seven  were  suggested  by  the  Chinese  Book,  of 
odes,  where  many  of  the  poems  consist  of  lines  of  five, 
and  others  of  lines  of  seven  syllables.  This  does  not 
seem  very  probable. 

The  best  known  metre  constructed  on  this  principle  is 
what  is  known  as  “ Tanka"  or  “ short  poems."  When 
poetry  is  spoken  of  in  Japan  it  is  usually  this  kind  of 


POETRY 


29 


verse  which  is  meant.  It  consists  of  five  phrases  or 
lines  of  5,  7,  5,  7,  and  7 syllables — 31  syllables  in  all.1 
Each  of  these  stanzas  constitutes  an  entire  poem.  The 
Tanka  is  the  most  universal  and  characteristic  of  the 
various  forms  of  poetry  in  Japan.  The  oldest  examples 
date  back  to  the  seventh  century,  or  possibly  earlier. 
Ever  since  there  has  been  a continual  and  copious 
stream  of  this  kind  of  composition.  Even  at  the  present 
day  the  Mikado  gives  out  themes  at  the  New  Year  for 
his  courtiers  to  show  their  skill  upon,  and  the  pages  of 
the  magazines  give  evidence  that  Tanka  are  still  produced 
in  considerable  quantity. 

It  may  be  thought  that  in  the  compass  of  31  syllables, 
and  with  the  other  limitations  to  which  the  poet  in  Japan 
is  subject,  nothing  of  much  value  can  be  the  result. 
This,  however,  is  far  from  being  the  case.  Although  no 
great  qualities  can  be  claimed  for  the  Tanka,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  the  Japanese  poets  have  made  the  most  of 
their  slender  resources.  It  is  wonderful  what  felicity  of 
phrase,  melody  of  versification,  and  true  sentiment  can 
be  compressed  within  these  narrow  limits.  In  their  way 
nothing  can  be  more  perfect  than  some  of  these  little 
poems.  They  remind  us  of  those  tiny  carvings  known 
to  us  as  Netsuke,  in  which  exquisite  skill  of  workmanship 
is  displayed  in  fashioning  figures  an  inch  or  two  in 
height,  or  of  those  sketches  where  the  Japanese  artist  has 
managed  to  produce  a truly  admirable  effect  by  a few 
dexterous  strokes  of  the  brush. 

Next  to  the  Tanka,  the  most  common  kind  of  classical 
metre  is  the  Naga-uta  or  “ long  poetry.”  The  Naga-uta 
has  the  same  alternation  of  five  and  seven  syllable 
phrases,  with  an  additional  line  of  seven  syllables  at  the 

1 See  specimen  on  page  27. 


30 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

end,  as  the  Tanka,  and  only  differs  from  it  in  having  no 
limit  in  regard  to  length. 

Some  of  the  best  poetry  which  Japan  has  produced  is 
in  this  metre.  But  it  has  never  been  a great  favourite, 
and  after  the  Nara  period  was  almost  completely 
neglected,  the  preference  of  the  national  genius  being 
evidently  for  the  shorter  kind  of  verse. 

Notwithstanding  the  name,  Naga-uta  are  by  no  means 
long  poems.  Few  of  them  are  nearly  so  long  as 
“Locksley  Hall,"  and  the  majority  are  effusions  of  a few 
dozen  lines  only. 

A feature  which  strikingly  distinguishes  the  Japanese 
poetic  muse  from  that  of  Western  nations  is  a certain 
lack  of  imaginative  power.  The  Japanese  are  slow  to 
endow  inanimate  objects  with  life.  Shelley's  “ Cloud," 
for  example,  contains  enough  matter  of  this  kind  for 
many  volumes  of  Japanese  verse.  Such  lines  as 

“ From  my  wings  are  shaken 
The  dews  that  waken 
The  sweet  buds  every  one , 

When  rocked  to  rest 
On  their  mothers  breast 
As  she  dances  about  the  sun” 

would  appear  to  them  ridiculously  overcharged  with 
metaphor,  if  not  absolutely  unintelligible.  Still  more 
foreign  to  their  genius  is  the  personification  of  abstract 
qualities.  Abstract  words  are  comparatively  few,  and  it 
does  not  occur  to  the  Japanese  poet  (or  painter)  to 
represent  Truth,  Justice,  and  Faith  as  comely  damsels 
in  flowing  robes,  or  to  make  Love  a chubby  naked  boy 
with  wings  and  a bow  and  arrows.  Muses,  Graces, 
Virtues,  Furies — in  short,  the  host  of  personifications 


POETRY 


31 

without  which  Western  poetry  would  be  only  a shadow 
of  itself — have  little  counterpart  in  Japanese  literature. 

This  impersonal  habit  of  the  Japanese  mind  is  shared 
by  them  with  other  races  of  the  Far  East,  notably  China. 
It  is  not  confined  to  poetry,  or  even  to  literature,  but  is 
profoundly  characteristic  of  their  whole  mental  attitude, 
showing  itself  in  their  grammar,  which  is  most  sparing  of 
personal  pronouns ; in  their  art,  which  has  no  school  of 
portrait-painting  or  monumental  sculpture  worth  men- 
tioning ; in  the  late  and  imperfect  development  of  the 
drama  ; and  in  their  religious  temper,  with  its  strong 
bent  towards  rationalism,  and  its  hazy  recognition  of  a 
ruling  personal  power  in  the  universe.  To  their  minds 
things  happen,  rather  than  are  done  ; the  tides  of  fate  are 
far  more  real  to  them  than  the  strong  will  and  the 
endeavour  which  wrestles  with  them.  The  significance 
of  this  fact  in  regard  to  the  moral  and  psychological 
development  of  these  races  may  be  left  to  others  to 
determine.  It  is  sufficient  here  to  note  its  influence  on 
the  literature,  and  especially  on  the  poetry. 

Some  rhetorical  devices  which  are  peculiar  to  Japanese 
poetry  require  a brief  notice.  One  of  these  is  the  Makura- 
Kotoba,  or  “ pillow-word  ” as  it  is  called,  because  it 
usually  stands  at  the  beginning  of  the  verse,  serving,  as 
it  were,  as  a pillow  upon  which  it  rests.  The  Makura- 
Kotoba  is  a stock  conventional  epithet  prefixed  to  certain 
words  something  after  the  fashion  of  Homer's  “ swift- 
footed " Achilles  or  “ many-fountained  ” Ida.  These 
words  are  survivals  from  a very  archaic  stage  of  the 
language,  and  the  meaning  of  some  of  them  is  now 
extremely  doubtful,  a circumstance  which  forms  no 
obstacle  whatever  to  their  continued  use.  Others  are 
still  intelligible  and  appropriate  enough,  such  as  the 


32 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ house-bird  " cock,  the  “ rain-enshrouded  " Mount  Mi- 
kasa,  the  “ever-firm"  heaven,  “morning-mist"  thought- 
wandering. But  even  although  a Makura-Kotoba  may 
be  sufficiently  apt  if  it  is  rightly  applied,  some  Japanese 
poets  take  a perverse  pleasure  in  wresting  it  from  its 
proper  sense  in  a way  which  to  us  is  nothing  short 
of  ludicrous.  “ Whale-catching,"  for  example,  may  pass 
as  an  epithet  of  the  sea.  But  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
poet  who  uses  it  as  a prefix  to  the  inland  sea  of  Omi, 
now  called  Lake  Biwa,  where,  needless  to  observe,  whales 
are  an  unknown  phenomenon  ? “ Creeper-clad  " is  well 

enough  as  an  epithet  of  a rock,  but  it  tries  one’s  patience 
a little  to  find  it  applied  to  the  province  of  Iwami,  simply 
because  Iwa  means  rock. 

From  the  versifier's  point  of  view  the  Makura-Kotoba 
is  a very  useful  institution.  It  consists  almost  invariably 
of  five  syllables,  and  therefore  supplies  him  without  any 
trouble  with  a first  line  ready  made,  no  unimportant  con- 
sideration when  the  entire  poem  consists  of  only  thirty- 
one  syllables.  These  epithets  are  several  hundreds  in 
number,  and  are  collected  into  dictionaries  which  serve 
the  purpose  of  a Gradus  ad  Parnassum.  They  are  most 
useful  in  a country  where  the  composition  of  Tanka  has 
been  for  centuries  little  more  than  a mere  mechanic  art. 

Another  trick  of  the  Japanese  poet  is  what  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain1 has  aptly  termed  “pivot-words."  In  these  a 
word  or  part  of  a word  is  used  in  two  senses,  one  with 
what  precedes,  the  other  with  what  follows.  Thackeray 
has  something  of  the  kind  in  The  Newcomcs , where  he 
speaks  of  the  tea-pot  presented  to  Mr.  Honeyman  by  the 
devotees  attending  his  chapel  as  the  “ devotea-pot." 
Here  the  syllable  “tea"  is  contrived  a double  debt  to 

1 In  his  Classical  Poetry  of  the  Japanese . 


POETRY 


33 


pay.  It  represents  at  the  same  time  the  final  syllable  of 
“ devotee  ” and  the  first  syllable  of  “ tea-pot."  Perhaps  a 
better  example  is  the  following  from  Butler's  Hudibras : — 

“ That  old  Pyg — what  d'ye  call  him — malion , 

Who  cut  his  mistress  out  of  stone , 

Had  not  so  hard  a hearted  one." 

“What  is  this  but  a kind  of  pun  ?"  the  reader  will  not 
unnaturally  say.  Yet  it  would  be  hardly  fair  to  stigma- 
tise these  jeux  de  mots  as  puns.  They  are  meant  not  to 
provoke  laughter,  but  as  ornament,  and  the  effect  is 
sometimes  not  unpleasing. 

At  its  best,  however,  the  “ pivot " word  is  an  ornament 
of  doubtful  taste,  and  poets  of  the  classical  period  indulge 
in  this  figure  of  speech  but  sparingly.  More  remains  to 
be  said  of  it  when  we  come  to  the  dramatists  of  a later 
age,  who  have  used  it  in  an  extravagant,  and,  at  least  to 
us  Europeans,  exasperating  manner. 

Parallelism,  or  the  correspondence  between  each  word 
of  two  successive  lines  or  clauses,  noun  for  noun  and 
verb  for  verb,  is  an  occasional  ornament  of  Japanese, 
as  it  is  of  Chinese  poetry.  It  is  familiar  to  us  in  the 
Psalms  of  David,  and  is  a favourite  with  Longfellow, 
whose  Hiawatha  contains  numerous  such  pairs  of  parallel 
lines,  as — 

“ Filled  the  marshes  full  of  wildfowl , 

Filled  the  river full  of  fishes." 

Some  Japanese  examples  of  this  figure  will  be  found  in 
the  poems  quoted  on  page  37. 

Nara  Poetry 

While  the  eighth  century  has  left  us  little  or  no  prose 
literature  of  importance,  it  was  emphatically  the  golden 
age  of  poetry.  Japan  had  now  outgrown  the  artless 


34  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

effusions  described  in  a preceding  chapter,  and  during 
this  period  produced  a body  of  verse  of  an  excellence 
which  has  never  since  been  surpassed.  The  reader  who 
expects  to  find  this  poetry  of  a nation  just  emerging  from 
the  barbaric  stage  of  culture  characterised  by  rude,  un- 
tutored vigour,  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that,  on  the 
contrary,  it  i.s  distinguished  by  polish  rather  than  power. 
It  is  delicate  in  sentiment  and  refined  in  language,  and 
displays  exquisite  skill  of  phrase  with  a careful  adherence 
to  certain  canons  of  composition  of  its  own. 

The  poetry  of  this  and  the  following  period  was  written 
by  and  for  a very  small  section  of  the  Japanese  nation. 
The  authors,  many  of  them  women,  were  either  mem- 
bers of  the  Mikado’s  court,  or  officials  temporarily 
stationed  in  the  provinces,  but  looking  to  the  capi- 
tal as  their  home.  We  hear  nothing  of  any  popular 
poetry.  On  the  other  hand,  the  faculty  of  writing  verse 
was  universal  among  the  higher  classes.  Nearly  every 
educated  man  and  woman  could  indite  a Tanka  upon 
occasion.  There  were  no  voluminous  writers.  It  was 
not  the  custom  to  publish  the  poems  of  individual 
authors  separately.  Had  it  been  so,  very  thin  volumes 
indeed  would  have  been  the  result.  Collections  were 
made  at  intervals  by  Imperial  authority,  in  which  the 
choice  poems  of  the  preceding  period  were  brought  to- 
gether, and  if  twenty  or  thirty  Tanka  of  one  poet  found 
a place  there,  it  was  sufficient  to  give  him  or  her  a dis- 
tinguished position  among  the  multitude  of  contributors. 

The  poetry  of  the  Nara  period  has  been  preserved- to 
us  in  one  of  these  anthologies,  known  as  the  Manydshiuy 
or  “Collection  of  One  Thousand  Leaves.”  According  to 
the  usual  account,  it  was  completed  early  in  the  ninth 
century.  The  poems  contained  in  it  belong  chiefly  to 


MANYOSHIU 


35 


the  latter  half  of  the  seventh  and  the  first  half  of  the 
eighth  century  of  the  Christian  era,  and  cover  a period 
of  about  130  years.  They  are  classified  as  follows  : 
poems  of  the  four  seasons ; poems  of  the  affections  ; 
elegiac,  allegorical,  and  miscellaneous  poems.  They 
number  in  all  more  than  4000  pieces,  of  which  the  great 
majority  are  Tanka,  or  short  poems  of  thirty-one  syllables. 
The  remainder  are  for  the  most  part  Naga-uta  or  so- 
called  “ long  poems."  As  for  the  authors,  their  name  is 
legion.  Among  them,  however,  two  poets  stand  out  with 
some  degree  of  eminence — viz.,  Hitomaro  and  Akahito. 
The  former  flourished  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  century, 
the  latter  in  the  reign  of  Shomu  (724-756).  Little  is 
known  of  either,  further  than  that  they  were  officials  of 
the  Mikado’s  court,  and  attended  him  on  some  of  his 
progresses  through  the  provinces. 

The  Riakuge  edition  of  the  Manydshiu  in  thirty 
volumes,  which  was  formerly  the  best,  has  now  been 
totally  eclipsed  and  superseded  by  the  magnificent  Man- 
ydshiu Kogiy  recently  published  under  official  auspices. 
It  extends  to  122  volumes,  and  contains  everything  (and 
more)  in  the  way  of  commentary  and  indexes  that  the 
most  ardent  student  can  desire.  The  print  is  admirable, 
and  the  text  a great  improvement  on  that  of  the  Riakuge 
edition. 

The  following  translations,  inadequate  as  they  are,  may 
help,  to  give  some  idea  of  the  character  of  the  Manydshiu 
poetry.  The  first  specimen  is  by  Hitomaro.  It  is  an 
elegy  on  Prince  Hinami,  son  of  the  Mikado  Temmu, 
who  died  A.D.  687,  before  succeeding  to  the  throne. 

The  poet  begins  by  relating  the  appointment,  at  a 
council  of  the  gods,  of  the  deity  Ninigi  no  Mikoto  as  the 
first  divine  sovereign  of  Japan.  In  the.  second  part 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


36 

allusion  is  made  to  the  death  of  the  late  Mikado  ; while 
in  the  third  the  poet  gives  expression  to  the  disappoint- 
ment of  the  nation  that  Prince  Hinami  did  not  live  to 
succeed  him,  and  laments  the  loneliness  of  his  tomb, 
which  he  represents  as  a palace  where  the  Prince  dwells 
in  silence  and  solitude. 

“ When  began  the  earth  and  heaven , 

By  the  margin  of  the  River 
( f the  firmament  eternal , 

Met  the  Gods  in  high  assembly, 

Met  the  gods  and  held  high  counsel \ 

Myriads  upon  myriads  gathered. 

Then  to  each  high  charge  was  given; 

On  the  Goddess  of  the  Sunlight , 

Her  who  fills  the  sky  with  radiance , 

They  bestowed  the  realm  of  Heaven. 

To  her  grandchild  they  delivered 
This , the  land  of  A shihar a. 

This , the  land  of  fairest  rice-ears , 

His  with  god-like  sway  to  govern , 

Long  as  heave7i  and  earth  endure  a 
Downward  sped , he  swept  asunder 
Heaven  s clouds , the  many -piled , 

Earthward  gloriously  descending. 

In  the  Palace  of  Kiyomi, 

The  great  seat  of  power  Imperial , 

God-like  ruled  his  true  descendant , 

The  august  High-shining-sun-Prince , 

Till  he  rose  on  high  divinely , 

Flinging  wide  the  gates  eternal 
On  the  plaiji  of  heaven  that  open. 

Mighty  Prince , if  thou  hadst  deigned 
This  sublunar  world  to  govern , 

Thou  hadst  been  to  all  thy  people 
Dear  as  are  the  flowers  in  spring-time. 

As  the  full  moon , soul-contenting. 

As  in  a great  ship  the  seaman , 

So  our  trust  in  thee  we  rested ; 


MANYOSHIU 


37 


As  the  welcome  rain  from  heaven , 

All  the  nation  did  await  thee. 

Thou  hast  chosen — why  we  know  not— 

By  the  hill  of  lone  Mayumi 
There  to  raise  the  massy  pillars. 

There  to  build  a lofty  palace, 

But  at  morn  thy  voice  is  heard  notj 
Months  and  days  have  passed  in  silence , 

Till  thy  servants , sad  and  weary , 

Have  departed ',  none  knows  whither.n 

The  next  specimen  is  also  by  Hitomaro.  It  is  an  elegy 
on  a lady  of  the  court. 

“In  her  face  were  the  tints  of  the  autumn  woods, 

Buxom  was  her  form  as  the  graceful  bamboo. 

Unknown  to  us  are  her  thoughts  of  the  future ; 

We  hoped  for  her  a cable-long  life , 

Not  transitory  like  the  dew  which  falls  at  7norn 
And  vanishes  before  evening, 

Or  the  mist  which  rises  at  even 
And  is  dispersed  in  the  morning. 

Even  we,  who  knew  her  by  report — 

We,  who  had  seen  her  but  by  glimpses. 

Are  filled  with  deep  regret. 

What  then  must  be  the  sorrow 
Of  her  youthful  spouse 
Who  shared  her  couch — 

Their  white  arms  interlaced for  pillows  f 
Desolate  indeed  must  be  his  thoughts  as  he  lies  down, 
Despairing  must  be  his  longings  for  her. 

Ah  me  ! she  who  has  passed  away  from  us 
By  so  untimely  a fate, 

Did  indeed  resemble  the  morning  dews 
Or  the  mists  of  evening! 

The  following  illustrates  the  Japanese  poet's  use  of 
parallelism.  It  is  dated  A.D.  744. 

“By  the  Palace  of  Futagi, 

Where  our  great  king 
And  divine  lord 
Holds  high  rule , 


4 


3?  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Gentle  is  the  rise  of  the  hills , 

Bearing  hundreds  of  trees; 

Pleasant  is  the  murmur  of  the  rapids 
As  downward  they  rush. 

So  long  as  in  the  spring-time 
( When  the  nightingale  comes  and  sings) 
On  the  rocks 

Brocade-like  flowers  blossom , 
Brightening  the  mountain-foot ; 

So  long  as  in  the  autumn 
( When  the  stag  calls  to  his  mate ) 

The  red  leaves  fall  hither  and  thither , 
Wounded  by  the  showers , 

The  heaven  be-clouding — 

For  many  thousand  years 
May  his  life  be  prolonged , 

To  rule  over  all  under  heaven 
In  the  great  palace 
Destined  to  remain  unchanged 
For  hundreds  of  ages 


In  Praise  of  Japan 

“ The  land  of  Yamato 
Has  7nountains  in  numbers , 
But  peerless  among  them 
Is  high  Kaguyama. 

I sta7id  on  its  summit 
My  kingdo7n  to  view . 

The  smoke  from  the  la)id-plain 
Thick  rises  in  air , 

The  gulls  fro7n  the  sea-plain 
By  fits  soar  aloft. 

O land  of  Yamato  / 

Fair  Akitsushima  ! 

Dear  art  thou  to  me I 


MANYOSHIU 


39 


The  Legend  of  Urashima 

This  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  popular  of  Japanese 
legends.  In  its  original  version  it  is  much  older  than 
the  Manydshiu . 

“ On  a hazy  day  in  spring 
I went  forth  and  stood  upon  the  beach  of  Suminoye  ; 

And  as  1 watched  the  fishing-boats  rock  to  and fro , ( 

I bethought  me  of  the  tale  of  old ', 

How  Urashima  of  Midzunoye, 

Proud  of  his  skill  in  catching  the  bonito  and  the  tai ', 

Did  not  return  eve?i  for  seven  days , 

But  rowed  on  beyond  the  bounds  of  ocean j 

Where  with  a daughter  of  the  Sea  God 

It  was  his  fortune  to  meet  as  he  rowed  onwards. 

When , after  mutual  courtship , they  had  come  to  an  understandings 
They  plighted  their  troths , and  went  to  the  immortal  land. 

Hand  in  hand  they  two  entered 

Into  a stately  mansion  within  the  precincts 

Of  the  Palace  of  the  Sea  God. 

Here  he  might  have  dwelt  for  ever , 

Never  growing  old , and  never  dying. 

But  the  foolish  man  of  this  world 
Thus  addressed  his  spouse : 

‘ For  a little  while  I would  return  home 
And  speak  to  my  father  and  my  mother j 
To-morrow  I will  come  again. 7 
Thus  he  spake , and  his  wife  replied : 

1 If  thou  art  to  return  again  to  the  immortal  lana 
And  live  with  me  as  now , 

Beware  how  thou  openest  this  casket.7 
Strongly  did  she  enjoin  this  on  hint. 

But  having  returned  to  Suminoye , 

Though  he  looked  for  his  house,  no  house  could  he  see j 
Though  he  looked for  the  village , no  village  could  he  see. 
Wondering  at  this , the  thought  occurred  to  him  : 

‘ In  the  space  of  three  years,  since  I left  my  home. 


1 The  horizon. 


40 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Can  7ny  home  have  vanished , leaving  not  even  the  fence  ? 

Were  I now  to  open  this  casket, 

Might  it  not  appear  as  before  ? ’ 

So  saying , he  opened  a little  the  precious  casket , 

Whereupon  a white  cloud  issued  from  it 
A nd  spread  away  towards  the  immortal  land. 

He  ran , he  shouted ’ he  waved  his  sleeves , 

H e writhed  upon  the  earth , and  ground  his  feet  together. 

Of  a sudden  his  heart  melted  away ; 

Wrinkles  covered  his  body , that  had  been  so  youthful ; 

His  hair , that  had  been  so  black , became  white. 

By-and-by  his  breath  also  failed j 
At  last  his  life  departed. 

A nd,  lo  ! here  once  stood  the  cottage 
Of  Urashima  of  Mi dzunoye A 

Like  most  Naga-uta,  the  above  is  followed  by  a thirty- 
one  syllable  poem  known  as  a Hanka.  The  Hanka 
sometimes  echoes  the  principal  idea  of  the  poem  which 
precedes,  and  is  at  others  employed  as  a sort  of  poetical 
save-all  to  utilise  any  stray  scrap  of  thought  or  imagery 
which  it  may  not  have  been  convenient  to  include  in 
the  principal  poem.  Some  Naga-uta  have  several  Hanka 
appended  to  them. 

Hanka 

“ In  the  immortal  land 
He  might  have  gone  on  to  dwell ; 

But  by  his  nature 

How  dull  was  he,  this  wight ! ” 

The  authors  of  the  two  following  lyrics  are  unnamed. 

Mount  Fuji  (Fujiyama) 

“ Where  071  the  one  ha7id  is  the  province  of  Kai, 

And  on  the  other  the  la7id  of  Suruga, 

Right  in  the  7nidst  between  the77i 
Stands  out  the  high  peak  of  Fuji. 

The  very  clouds  of  heaven  dread  to  approach  it ; 

Even  the  soaring  birds  reach  not  its  summit  i7i  their  flight. 


MANYOSHIU 


4i 


Its  burning  fire  is  quenched  by  the  snow ; 

The  snow  that  falls  is  melted  by  the  fire. 

No  words  may  tell  of  it,  no  name  know  I that  is  fit  for  it, 
But  a wondrous  deity  it  surely  is  ! 

That  lake  we  call  the  Sea  of  Se 
Is  contained  within  it ; 

That  river  which  men,  as  they  cross  it,  call  the  Fuji 
Is  the  water  which  flows  down  from  it ; 

Of  Yamato,  the  Land  of  Sunrise, 

It  is  the  peace-giver,  it  is  the  god,  it  is  the  treasure. 

On  the  peak  of  Fuji,  in  the  land  of  Suruga, 

I never  weary  of  gazing! 


Poverty 

The  following  is  exceptional,  as  giving  a glimpse  of 
the  condition  of  the  poorer  classes.  It  contains  lines  in 
which  Buddhist  influence  is  traceable. 

“ ’ Tis  night : mingled  with  the  storm  the  rain  is  falling j 
Mingled  with  the  rain  the  snow  is  falling. 

So  cold  am  /,  I know  not  what  to  do. 

I take  up  and  suck  coarse  salt  [ fish  f] 

And  sip  a brew  of  sake  dregs j 
I cough,  I sneeze  and  sneeze,  I cannot  help  it. 

I may  stroke  my  beard,  and  think  proudly  to  myself. 

Who  is  there  like  me  f 

But  so  cold  am  I,  I pull  over  me  the  hempen  coverlet, 

And  huddle  up  on  me  all  the  nuno  cloaks  I have  got. 

Yet  even  this  chilly  night 
A re  there  not  others  still  poorer , 

Whose  parents  are  starving  of  cold  and  hunger, 

Whose  wife  and  children  are  begging  their  food  with  tears  ? 

(The  poet  fancies  himself  addressing  such  a person.) 

‘ At  such  a time  how  do  you  pass  your  days  ? 1 

(Answer.) 

‘ Heaven  and  earth  are  wide,  but  for  me  they  have  become  narrow j 
The  sun  and  moon  are  bright,  but  for  me  they  yield  no  radiance. 


42 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Is  it  so  with  all  men , or  with  me  alone  ? 

Born  a ma?i  by  the  rarest  of  chances , 
lam  made  in  hu7nan  shape  like  another , 

Yet  on  my  shoulders  1 wear  a 7iuno  cloak  void  of  padding. 

Which  ha7igs  dow7i  in  tatters  like  seaweed — 

A 7)i ere  7nass  of  rags. 

Withm  7)iy  hut , twisted  out  of  shape , 

Straw  is  strewn  on  the  bare  floor  of  earth. 

Father  a7id  77iother  at  77iy  pillow. 

Wife  and  children  at  77iy  feet. 

Gather  round  7)ie  weeping  and  wailmg, 

With  voices  as  fro77i  the  throat  of  the  nuye  bird. 

For  7io  S7>ioke  rises  fro77i  the  kitchen  furnace, 

I>i  the  pot  spiders  have  hu7ig  their  webs, 

The  very  art  of  cooking  is  forgotten. 

To  crow7i  all — cutting  off  the  end,  as  the  proverb  has  it. 

Of  a thing  that  is  too  short  already — 

Co77ies  the  head  77ia7i  of  the  village  with  his  rod, 

His  su77wi07is  [ to  forced  labour ] penetrates  to  7>iy  sleeping-place. 
Such  helpless  7nisery  is  but  the  way  of  the  world l ” 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  difference  between  the 
Japanese  and  English  languages,  that  this  poem  in  the 
original  contains  only  seven  personal  (including  posses- 
sive and  relative)  pronouns. 

Some  Tanka 

No  Edward  FitzGerald  has  yet  come  to  give  us  an 
English  metrical  version  of  the  best  Tanka  of  the  Mci7iyo- 
shiu  and  Kokinshiu.  A prose  rendering  must  serve  in 
the  meantime.  The  translations  correspond  mostly  line 
for  line  to  the  original. 

The  following  are  ten  of  a set  of  thirteen  Tanka  com- 
posed in  praise  of  rake  by  Otomo-no-Yakamochi  (died 
785),  after  Hitomaro  and  Akahito,  the  most  distinguished 
poet  of  his  day.  This  is  not  a very  common  theme  of 


MANYOSHIU 


43 

the  Japanese  poet,  and  its  choice  is  probably  due  to 
Chinese  influence. 

“ Ah!  how  true  was  that  saying 
Of  the  great  sage 
Of  the  times  of  old, 

Who  gave  to  sake 
The  name  of  ‘ Sage?  ” 

“ It  was  sake 

That  was  the  thing  most  loved. 

Even  by  the  seven  wise  men 
Of  the  days  of  old? 

“ Better  than  talk 
That  would  be  wise, 

Were  it  even  to  drink  sake 
Until  you  weep  tears 
„ Of  drunkenness ? 

“ More  than  1 can  say, 

More  tha?i  I can  do  to  show  it. 

An  exceeding  noble  thvig 
Is  sake? 

“ If  it  turned  out 
That  I were  aught  else  but  man, 

I would  be 
A sake-jar, 

For  then  I should  get  soaked? 

“ Hateful  in  my  eyes 
Is  the  sententious  prig 
Who  will  not  drink  sake. 

When  I look  on  such  a one 
I find  him  to  resemble  an  ape? 1 

“ Talk  of  priceless  treasures  ! 

Can  they  be  more  precious 
Than  a single  cup 
Of  thick  sake?” 


1 The  official  edition  of  the  Manydshiu  has  bestowed  eight  pages  of  com- 
mentary on  this  last  stanza. 


44 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ Talk  of  jewels 
Which  shine. by  night! 

Can  they  give  so  much  pleasure 
As  drinking  sake 
To  drive  away  onds  care?" 

“ Many  are  the  ways 
Of  this  world's  pleasures  ; 

But  none  to  my  mind 
Is  like  that  of  getting  mellow , 

Even  to  tears." 

“ So  long  as  in  this  world 
I have  my  pleasure , 

In  the  future  existence 
What  care  I though  I become 
An  insect  or  a bird?  n 

Spring  is  a more  favourite  subject.  The  following  are 
by  various  authors  : — 

“ On  the  plum  blossoms 
Thick  fell  the  snow; 

I wished  to  gather  some 
To  show  to  thee , 

But  it  melted  in  my  hajidsP 
“ The  plum  blossoms 
Had  already  been  scattered, \ 

But  notwithstanding 
The  white  snow 
Has  fallen  deep  in  the  garden 
“ Among  the  hills 
The  snow  still  lies — 

But  the  willows 

Where  the  torrents  rush  together 
Are  in  full  bud." 

“ O thou  willow 
That  I see  every  morti , 

Hasten  to  become  a thick  grove 
Whereto  the  nightingale  1 
May  resort  and  sing." 


The  bird  which  it  is  necessary  in  an  English  translation  to  call  the  nightin- 
gale is  not  our  songster,  but  an  allied  species,  the  Uguisu  or  Cettia  cantans. 


MANY0SH1U 


45 


“ Before  the  wind  of  spring 
Has  tangled  the  fine  threads 
Of  the  green  willow — 

Now , I would  show  it 
To  ?ny  love” 

“ The  time  of  the  cherry  blossonis 
Is  not  yet  past — 

Yet  now  they  ought  to  fall 

Whilst  the  love  of  those  who  look  on  them 

Is  at  its  height .” 

“ Fall  gently 

0 thou  rain  of  spi'ing  ! 

A nd  scatter  not 

The  cherry  flowers 
Until  I have  seen  them? 

“ When  I went  out 
Over  the  moor , 

Where  the  haze  was  rising , 

The  nightingale  sang  ; 

Spring , it  seems,  has  cornel 

“ My  days  pass  in  longing , 

A nd  my  heart  melts 
Like  the  hoar-frost 
On  the  water-plants 
When  spring  has  cornel 

“ In  yearning  love 

1 have  endured  till  night. 

But  to-morrow' s long  spring  day 
With  its  risi?ig  mists , 

How  shall  1 ever  pass  it?” 


It  is  not  without  some  resemblance  to  the  English  bird,  being  of  the  same  size, 
and  of  a plain  greyish  colour.  Its  habits  are  not  specially  nocturnal,  but 
when  singing  it  seeks  the  deepest  shade  of  a bush  or  thicket,  a condition 
which  the  Japanese  simulate  by  covering  its  cage  with  paper  so  as  to  produce 
an  artificial  gloom.  The  repertory  of  the  Uguisu  is  by  no  means  so  varied  as 
that  of  the  nightingale,  but  for  liquid  melody  of  note  it  is  unsurpassed  by  any 
songster  whatever.  Its  brief  melodious  utterances  are  no  inapt  emblem  of  the 
national  poetry. 


46  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

“My  love  is  thick 
As  the  herbage  in  spring, 

It  is  manifold  as  the  waves 
That  heap  themselves  on  the  shore 
Of  the  great  ocean! 

“ No  more  will  I plant  for  thee 
Tall  trees, 

O cuckoo  ! 1 

Thou  contest,  and  with  thy  resounding  cry 
Dost  increase  my  yearnings! 

“ This  morn  at  dawn 
The  cuckoo's  cry  I heard. 

Didst  thou  hear  it,  my  lord , 

Or  wast  thou  still  asleep  ? " 

“ I will  plant  for  thee 
A whole  grove  of  orange-trees, 

0 thou  cuckoo  ! 

Where  thou  mayst  always  dwell , 

Even  until  the  winter! 

“It  is  dawn  j 

1 cannot  sleep  for  thoughts  of  her  I love. 

What  is  to  be  done 

With  this  cuckoo 
That  goes  on  singing  ?” 

“ Were  only  thy  hand 
Lying  in  mine. 

What  matter  though  men's  words 
Were  copious  as  the  herbage 
Of  the  summer  meads! 

“ Since  we  are  such  things 
That  if  we  are  born 
We  ?nust  some  day  die, 

So  long  as  this  life  lasts 
Let  us  enjoy  ourselves! 

The  Japanese  have  quite  different  associations  with  the  cuckoo  from  our- 
selves. They  hear  in  its  cry  the  longings  of  unsatisfied  love.  It  is  true  that 
it  is  not  the  same  bird  as  ours,  but  an  allied  species  with  a different  note.  Its 
name  (in  Japanese,  Ilototogisu)  is  onomatopoetic. 


MANYOSHIU 


4 7 


“ To  what  shall  I compare 
This  life  of  ours  f 
It  is  like  a boat 
Which  at  daybreak  rows  away 
And  leaves  no  trace  behind  it.” 1 

“ I would  go  to  some  land 
Where  no  cuckoos  are , 

I am  so  melancholy 
When  I hear 
Their  note? 

“ The  rippling  2 wistaria 
That  I planted  by  my  house 
Asa  memento 
Of  thee  whom  I love, 

Is  at  length  in  blossom” 

“ When  the  cuckoo  sang, 

Straightway  I drove  him  of, 

Bidding  him  go  to  you. 

I wonder  did  he  reach  you  ? ” 

u Go,  thou  cuckoo, 

A nd  tell  my  lord. 

Who  is  too  busy 
To  come  to  see  me, 

How  much  I love  him.” 

“ Granted  that  I 
Am  hateful  to  you. 

But  the  flowering  orange , 

That  grows  by  my  dwelling, , 

Will  you  really  not  come  to  see  it  ? ” 

“ I wear  no  clothing 
Drenched  with  dew 

From  wending  my  way  through  the  sunnner  herbage  j 
But  yet  the  sleeve  of  my  garment 
Is  never  for  a moment  dry  from  tears]” 


1 The  sentiment  of  this  poem  is  Buddhist.  The  transitoriness  of  life  is  a 
constant  refrain  all  through  Japanese  literature. 

2 The  flowers  are  supposed  to  resemble  waves. 


48 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ ’ Tis  the  sixth  month , 

The  su?i  is  shining. 

So  that  the  very  ground  is  cracked  ; 

But  even  so,  how  shall  my  sleeve  become  dry 
Jf  I never  meet  thee  ? 55 

“ On  the  spring  moor 
To  gather  violets 
I went  forth; 

Its  charm  so  held  me 
That  1 stayed 1 till  morn? 

— Akahito. 

“ Oh  ! the  misery  of  loving , 

Hidden  from  the  world 
Like  a maiden-lily 
Growing  amid  the  thick  herbage 
Of  the  swnmer  plaiti  / ” 

“ The  sky  is  a sea 

Where  the  cloud-billows  rise; 

A nd  the  moon  is  a bark  ; 

To  the  groves  of  the  stars 
It  is  oaring  its  way? 

“ Oh  ! that  the  white  waves  far  out 
On  the  sea  of  I se 
Were  but  flowers , 

That  I might  gather  them 
A nd  bring  them  as  a gift  to  my  love  ! ” 

— Prince  Aki,  a.d.  740. 

Although  the  Nihongi ,2  being  in  the  Chinese  language, 
does  not  fall  within  the  proper  scope  of  this  work,  it 
occupies  so  conspicuous  a position  among  books  written 
in  Japan,  that  it  deserves  a passing  notice.  In  it  we  have 
a collection  of  the  national  myths,  legends,  poetry,  and 
history  from  the  earliest  times  down  to  A.D.  697,  prepared 

1 No  doubt  to  be  understood  metaphorically  of  a visit  to  his  love. 

2 Translated  by  W.  G.  Aston  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Japan  Society 
1896. 


NIHONGI 


49 


under  official  auspices  and  completed  a.d.  720.  It  is  the 
first  of  a long  series  of  official  histories  in  Chinese. 
They  are  for  the  most  part  dreary  compilations  in  which 
none  but  students  of  history,  anthropology,  and  kindred 
subjects  are  likely  to  take  much  interest.  The  writers 
were  content  to  record  events  in  their  chronological 
sequence  from  month  to  month  and  from  day  to  day, 
without  any  attempt  to  trace  the  connection  between 
them  or  to  speculate  upon  their  causes.  The  attention 
to  Chinese  composition  and  studies,  which  the  use  of 
this  language  necessitated,  had,  however,  some  important 
effects.  It  served  to  engross  the  attention  of  the  men, 
the  cultivation  of  the  native  literature  being  left  in  a 
great  measure  to  the  women,  and  it  helped  to  familiarise 
the  Japanese  with  better  models  of  style  than  they  could 
find  in  their  own  country. 


BOOK  THE  THIRD 


HEIAN  (CLASSICAL)  PERIOD  (800-1186) 


BOOK  THE  THIRD 


HEIAN  ( CLASSICAL ) PERIOD  (800-1186) 

CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTORY 

In  794  the  capital  was  removed  to  the  site  of  the  present 
city  of  Kioto.  It  received  the  name  of  Heian-jd,  or  the 
“ City  of  Peace.”  The  Mikados  continued  to  make  it 
their  residence  until  the  revolution  of  1868,  but  the  term 
“ Heian  period”  is  restricted  to  the  time  when  Kioto  was 
the  real  seat  of  government,  namely,  about  four  centuries. 
When  Yoritomo,  at  the  end  of  this  period,  established 
the  Shogunate,  or  rule  of  the  military  caste,  at  Kamakura, 
in  the  east  of  Japan,  all  practical  authority  was  trans- 
ferred thither. 

With  the  founding  of  Heian-jd  (Kioto)  the  wave  of 
progress  which  received  its  impulse  from  the  combined 
influences  of  Chinese  learning  and  the  Buddhist  religion 
reached  its  height,  and  a period  of  great  material  pros- 
perity ensued.  But  the  usual  results  were  not  long  in 
manifesting  themselves.  The  ruling  classes  became  indo- 
lent and  luxurious,  and  neglected  the  arts  of  government 
5 53 


54  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

for  the  pursuit  of  pleasure.  There  was  great  laxity  of 
morals,  as  the  literature  of  the  period  abundantly  shows  ; 
but  learning  flourished,  and  a high  state  of  refinement 
prevailed  in  that  narrow  circle  which  surrounded  the 
Mikado  and  his  court. 

The  Heian  period  is  the  classical  age  of  Japanese 
literature.  Its  poetry  may  not  quite  reach  the  stan- 
dard of  the  Manydshiu,  but  it  contains  much  that  is 
of  admirable  quality,  while  in  the  abundance  and  excel- 
lence of  its  prose  writings  it  leaves  the  Nara  period 
far  behind.  The  language  had  now  attained  to  its  full 
development.  With  its  rich  system  of  terminations  and 
particles,  it  was  a pliant  instrument  in  the  writer's  hands, 
and  the  vocabulary  was  varied  and  copious  to  a degree 
which  is  astonishing  when  we  remember  that  it  was  drawn 
almost  exclusively  from  native  sources.  The  few  words 
of  Chinese  origin  which  it  contains  seem  to  have  found 
their  way  in  through  the  spoken  language,  and  are  net 
taken  straight  from  Chinese  books,  as  at  a later  stage 
when  Japanese  authors  loaded  their  periods  with  alien 
vocables  to  an  extent  for  which  our  most  Johnsonian 
English  affords  a feeble  parallel. 

The  literature  of  the  Heian  period  reflects  the  plea- 
sure-loving and  effeminate,  but  cultured  and  refined 
character  of  the  class  of  Japanese  who  produced  it.  It 
has  no  serious,  masculine  qualities.  History,  theology, 
science,  law — in  short,  all  learned  and  thoughtful  works 
were  composed  in  the  Chinese  language,  and  were  of 
poor  literary  quality.  The  native  literature  may  be  de- 
scribed in  one  word  as  belles-lettres.  It  consists  of 
poetry,  fiction,  diaries,  and  essays  of  a desultory  kind, 
called  by  the  Japanese  Zuihitsu,  or  “ following  the 
pen,"  the  only  exceptions  being  a few  works  of  a more 


HEIAN  PERIOD  55 

or  less  historical  character  which  appeared  towards  the 
close  of  the  period. 

The  lower  classes  of  the  people  had  no  share  in  the 
literary  activity  of  this  time.  Culture  had  not  as  yet 
penetrated  beyond  a very  narrow  circle.  Both  writers 
and  readers  belonged  exclusively  to  the  official  caste. 
The  people  from  time  to  time  showed  their  dissatis- 
faction with  oppression  and  misgovernment,  but  their 
discontent  found  no  expression  in  literature.  It  took 
the  form  of  outbreaks  and  rebellions,  robbery  and 
piracy. 

It  is  a remarkable  and,  I believe,  unexampled  fact, 
that  a very  large  and  important  part  of  the  best  literature 
which  Japan  has  produced  was  written  by  women.  We 
have  seen  that  a good  share  of  the  Nara  poetry  is  of 
feminine  authorship.  In  the  Heian  period  the  women 
took  a still  more  conspicuous  part  in  maintaining  the 
honour  of  the  native  literature.  The  two  greatest 
works  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  this  time  are 
both  by  women.  This  was  no  doubt  partly  due  to  the 
absorption  of  the  masculine  intellect  in  Chinese  studies, 
and  to  the  contempt  of  the  stronger  sex  for  such  frivolous 
pursuits  as  the  writing  of  poetry  and  romances.  But 
there  was  still  a more  effective  cause.  The  position  of 
women  in  ancient  Japan  was  very  different  from  what 
it  afterwards  became  when  Chinese  ideas  were  in  the 
ascendant.  The  Japanese  of  this  early  period  did  not 
share  the  feeling  common  to  most  Eastern  countries, 
that  women  should  be  kept  in  subjection,  and,  as  far  as 
possible,  in  seclusion.  Feminine  chieftains  are  frequently 
mentioned  in  the  old  histories,  and  several  even  of  the 
Mikados  were  women.  Indeed  the  Chinese  seem  to  have 
thought  that  the  “ monstrous  regiment  of  women  ” was 


5 6 JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

the  rule  in  Japan  at  this  time ; at  least  they  often  styled 
it  the  “ Queen-country."  Many  instances  might  be  quoted 
of  Japanese  women  exercising  an  influence  and  main- 
taining an  independence  of  conduct  quite  at  variance 
w7ith  our  preconceived  notions  of  the  position  of  women 
in  the  East.  It  is  this  w7hich  gives  their  literary  wrork  an 
air  of  freedom  and  originality  which  it  would  be  vain  to 
expect  in  the  writings  of  inmates  of  a harem. 

The  fact  that  the  Heian  literature  was  largely  the 
work  of  women  no  doubt  accounts  partly  for  its  gentle, 
domestic  character.  It  abounds  in  descriptions  of  scenes 
of  home  and  court  life,  and  of  amours  and  sentimental 
or  romantic  incidents.  Though  the  morality  wdiich  it 
reveals  is  anything  but  strait-laced,  the  language  is 
uniformly  refined  and  decent,  in  this  respect  resembling 
the  best  literature  of  China,  upon  which  the  Japanese 
taste  was  formed,  and  contrasting  strongly  with  the 
pornographic  school  of  popular  fiction  which  disgraced 
Japan  in  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries. 

The  Heian  period  witnessed  an  important  advance 
in  the  art  of  writing,  the  invention  of  the  phonetic 
script  known  as  Kana.  The  ancient  Japanese  had  no 
wTriting.  When  they  began  to  w7rite  their  own  language 
phonetically  they  had  no  alternative  but  to  use  Chinese 
ideographs  for  the  purpose.  This  system  was  open  to 
twro  objections.  A Chinese  character  is  a complicated 
contrivance,  consisting  of  numerous  strokes,  and  as  a 
complete  character  w7as  required  for  each  syllable  of  the 
polysyllabic  Japanese  words,  an  intolerable  cumbprsome- 
ness  was  the  result.  The  second  objection  was  that  a 
given  Japanese  syllable  might  be  represented  by  any 
one  of  several  Chinese  characters.  Some  hundreds  wrere 
actually  in  use  to  w7rite  the  forty-seven  syllables  of  w7hich 


PHONETIC  WRITING 


57 


the  language  consists.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  remem- 
ber so  many,  either  in  reading  or  in  writing.  To  meet 
these  difficulties  the  Japanese  did  two  things  : they 

restricted  themselves  to  a limited  number  of  characters 
for  use  as  phonetic  signs,  and  they  wrote  these  in  an 
abbreviated  or  cursive  form.  There  are  two  varieties 
of  the  script  thus  produced,  which  are  known  as  the 
Katakana  and  Hiragana.  No  exact  date  can  be  assigned 
for  their  introduction,  but  for  the  present  purpose  it  is 
sufficient  to  know  that  both  had  come  into  use  by  the 
end  of  the  ninth  century.  They  simplified  writing  enor- 
mously. It  is  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  without  them 
the  labour  of  committing  to  paper  the  lengthy  composi- 
tions of  this  period  would  have  given  pause  to  the  most 
industrious  scribes. 


CHAPTER  II 


POETRY— THE  “KOKINSHIU” 

For  seventy  or  eighty  years  after  the  establishment  of 
the  capital  at  Heian  or  Kioto,  Chinese  learning  mono- 
polised the  attention  of  the  nation.  No  prose  writings 
of  importance  in  the  Japanese  language  have  come 
down  to  us  from  this  period.  The  native  poetry  also 
languished.  Chinese  verse  composition  was  the  fashion, 
Mikados  and  even  princesses  being  numbered  among  the 
adepts  in  this  accomplishment.  The  end  of  the  ninth 
century,  however,  saw  a revival  of  Japanese  poetry.  We 
now  meet  with  the  names  of  Yukihira,  Narihira,  Otomo 
no  Kuronushi,  and  others,  followed  in  the  early  part  of 
the  tenth  by  Ki  no  Tsurayuki,  Oshi  Koji,  Henjo,  and  Ono 
no  Komachi  (a  poetess). 

In  A.D.  905  the  Mikado  Daigo  instructed  a committee 
of  officials  of  the  Department  of  Japanese  Poetry,  con- 
sisting of  Ki  no  Tsurayuki  and  other  poets,  to  make  a 
collection  of  the  best  pieces  which  had  been  produced 
during  the  previous  one  hundred  and  fifty  years.  The 
Anthology  known  as  the  Kokinshiu  (Poems,  Ancient  and 
Modern)  was  the  result  of  their  labours.  It  was  com- 
pleted about  922,  and  contains  over  eleven  hundred 
poems,  arranged  under  the  headings  of  Spring,  Summer, 
Autumn,  Winter,  Felicitations,  Partings,  Journeys,  Names 
of  Things,  Love,  Sorrow,  and  Miscellaneous.  Only  five  of 

this  number  are  in  the  longer  metre  called  Naga-uta,  the 

58 


KOKINSHIU 


59 

rest  being  Tanka  of  thirty-one  syllables,  with  a few  in 
somewhat  similar  short  metres. 

The  neglect  of  the  Naga-uta  for  the  Tanka  which  is 
indicated  by  these  figures  was  no  passing  phase  of  Japan- 
ese poetry.  It  has  continued  up  to  our  own  day,  with 
fatal  consequences,  and  has  been  a bar  to  all  real  pro- 
gress in  the  poetic  art.  How  a nation  which  possessed 
in  the  Naga-uta  an  instrument  not  unfitted,  as  there 
are  examples  to  show,  for  the  production  of  narrative, 
elegiac,  and  other  poems,  could  practically  confine  itself 
for  many  centuries  to  a form  of  poetic  expression  within 
whose  narrow  limits  nothing  more  substantial  than 
aphorisms,  epigrams,  conceits,  or  brief  exclamations  can 
be  contained,  is  a question  which  it  is  more  easy  to  ask 
than  to  answer. 

Much  of  the  poetry  of  this  time  was  the  outcome  of 
poetical  tournaments,  at  which  themes  were  proposed  to 
the  competitors  by  judges  who  examined  each  phrase 
and  word  with  the  minutest  critical  care  before  pro- 
nouncing their  verdict.  As  might  be  expected,  the 
poetry  produced  under  these  circumstances  is  of  a more 
or  less  artificial  type,  and  is  wanting  in  the  spontaneous 
vigour  of  the  earlier  essays  of  the  Japanese  muse.  Con- 
ceits, acrostics,  and  untranslatable  word-plays  hold  much 
too  prominent  a place ; but  for  perfection  of  form,  the 
poems  of  this  time  are  unrivalled.  It  is  no  doubt  to  this 
quality  that  the  great  popularity  of  this  collection  is  due. 
Sei  Shonagon,  writing  in  the  early  years  of  the  eleventh 
century,  sums  up  a young  lady’s  education  as  consisting 
of  writing,  music,  and  the  twenty  volumes  of  the  Kokin- 
shiu.  Subsequent  poetry  is  evidently  modelled  on  it 
rather  than  on  the  more  archaic  poems  of  the  Manyd- 
skiu.  Even  at  the  present  day  the  Kokinshiu  is  the  best 


6o 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


known  and  most  universally  studied  of  all  the  numerous 
anthologies  of  Japanese  poetry. 


SOME  TANKA  FROM  THE  “ KOKINSHIU  ” 

“ Who  could  it  have  been 
That  first  gave  love 
This  name  ? 

1 Dying’  is  the  plain  word 
He  might  well  have  used.” 

Neatly  rendered  by  Mr.  Chamberlain  : — 

“ O love  / who  gave  thee  thy  superfluous  name  ? 

Loving  and  dying — is  it  not  the  same  ? ” 

The  personification  of  love,  however,  is  hardly  in  the 
Japanese  style. 

“ Do  I forget  thee 
Even  for  so  brief  a space 
As  the  ears  of  grai?i 
On  the  fields  of  autumn 
Are  lit  up  by  the  lightning’s  glare?’* 

“ I fell  asleep  while  thinking  of  thee ; 

Perchance  for  this  reason 
I saw  thee  in  a dream  / 

Had  / only  known  it  to  be  one 
I would  not  have  awaked?’ 

“ Shall  we  call  that  only  a dream 
Which  we  see 
While  asleep  : 

This  vain  world  itself 
I cannot  regard  as  a reality 

“ / know  that  my  life 
Has  no  assurance  of  to-morrow  j 
But  to-day , 

So  long  as  darkness  has  not  yet  fallen , 

I will  grieve  for  him  who  has  passed  away?* 


K0K1NSHIU 


6 


“ O thou  cuckoo 
Of  the  ancient  capital 
Of  Iso  no  Kami  ! [Nard] 

Thy  voice  alone 

Is  all  that  is  left  of  the  olden  tune  I 

Tsurayuki,  having  met  with  a cool  reception  at  his 
native  place,  plucks  a branch  of  flowering  plum,  and 
exclaims — 

“ Its  people  ? Ah  well ! 

I know  not  their  hearts, 

But  in  my  native  place 
The  flowers  with  their  ancient 
Fragrance  are  odorous 

“ The  hue  of  the  flowers 
Mingles  with  the  snow , 

So  that  it  cannot  be  seen  j 
But  their  presence  may  be  known 
Were  it  only  by  the  perfume  I 

“ I came  and found  thee  not  : 

Wetter  far  is  my  sleeve 

Than  if  I had  threaded  my  way  at  morn 

Through  the  bamboo-grass 

Of  the  autumn  plain! 

“ This  night  of  spring. 

Of  formless  gloom, 

The  colour  of  the  plum-flowers 

Cannot,  indeed,  be  seen  j 

But  how  can  their  perfume  be  hidden  ? ” 

“ What  is  it  that  i7iakes  me  feel  so  desolate 
This  evening 
While  I wait 
For  one  who  comes  not? 

Can  it  be  the  blowing  of  the  [chill]  autumn  wind?” 

“ I would  that  thy  heart 
Were  melted  unto  me, 

As  when  spring  comes 
The  ice  thaws  away 
And  leaves  no  re?nainder.” 


6 2 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ For  many  a year 
The  fire  in  me  of  love 
Has  not  been  quenched \ 

Yet  my  frozen  sleeve  \ soaked  with  tears] 

Is  still  unthawed? 

“ It  is  I alone 

Who  am  most  miserable, 

For  no  year  passes 

In  which  even  the  ‘ Cow-herd ’ 

Does  not  meet  his  love? 

There  is  here  an  allusion  to  the  Chinese  story,  accord- 
ing to  which  the  Cow-herd,  one  of  a group  of  stars  near 
the  River  of  Heaven  (the  Milky  Way),  is  the  lover  of  a 
star  on  the  other  side  called  the  Spinster.  They  are 
separated  all  the  year  round  except  on  the  seventh  day 
of  the  seventh  month,  when  magpies  bridge  over  the 
River  of  Heaven,  so  as  to  allow  the  pair  to  meet. 
Both  Chinese  and  Japanese  poetry  contain  numberless 
allusions  to  this  legend. 

The  most  convenient  of  the  many  editions  of  the 
Kokinshiu  is  Motoori's  Td-Kagami.  It  contains  a modern 
colloquial  paraphrase  of  the  original. 


CHAPTER  III 


PROSE — “ KOKINSHIU”  PREFACE,  “TOSA  NIKKI,” 
“ TAKETORI  MONOG ATARI,”  “ISE  MONOGA- 
TARI,”  MINOR  WORKS 

The  “ Kokinshiu”  Preface 

About  two  centuries  elapsed  after  the  Kojiki  was  written 
without  any  substantial  addition  being  made  to  the  prose 
literature  of  Japan.  Some  of  the  Norito  and  Imperial 
edicts  described  in  a previous  chapter  belong  to  this 
period,  but  it  was  not  until  the  early  part  of  the  tenth 
century  that  Japanese  writers  took  up  in  earnest  the 
practice  of  prose  composition  in  their  native  language. 
Kl  NO  TSURAYUKI,  the  poet  and  editor  of  the  Kokinshiu , 
was  the  first  in  the  field. 

But  few  details  of  his  life  have  reached  us.  He  was 
a court  noble  who  traced  his  descent  in  a direct  line 
from  one  of  the  Mikados,  and  his  history  is  little  more 
than  the  record  of  the  successive  offices  which  he  held 
at  Kioto  and  in  the  provinces.  He  died  A.D.  946. 

His  famous  preface  to  the  Kokinshiu  was  written 

about  922.  It  has  to  this  day  a reputation  in  Japan  as 

the  ne plus  ultra  of  elegance  in  style.  Later  literature  is 

full  of  allusions  to  it,  and  it  has  served  as  the  model  for 

countless  similar  essays.  It  is  interesting  as  the  first 

attempt  to  discuss  such  a philosophical  question  as  the 

6* 


64 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


nature  of  poetry  in  a thoughtful  spirit.  I transcribe  the 
more  important  passages  : — 

“The  poetry  of  Yamato  (Japan)  has  the  human  heart 
for  its  seed,  and  grows  therefrom  into  the  manifold  forms 
of  speech.  Men  are  full  of  various  activities,  among 
which  poetry  is  that  which  consists  in  expressing  the 
thoughts  of  their  hearts  by  metaphors  taken  from  what 
they  see  or  hear. 

“ Listening  to  the  nightingale  singing  among  the 
flowers  or  to  the  cry  of  the  frog  which  dwells  in  the 
water,  we  recognise  the  truth  that  of  all  living  things 
there  is  not  one  which  does  not  utter  song.  It  is  poetry 
by  which,  without  an  effort,  heaven  and  earth  are  moved, 
and  gods  and  demons  invisible  to  our  eyes  are  touched 
with  sympathy.  By  poetry  the  converse  of  lovers  is 
made  gentler,  and  the  hearts  of  fierce  warriors  soothed. 

“ Poetry  began  when  heaven  and  earth  were  created. 
But  of  that  which  has  been  handed  down  to  our  day,  the 
first  was  made  in  everlasting  heaven  by  Shita-teru-hime, 
and  on  the  ore-yielding  earth  by  Susa-no-wo.  In  the 
age  of  the  swift  gods  it  would  seem  that  as  yet  there  was 
no  established  metre.  Their  poetry  was  artless  in  form 
and  hard  of  comprehension.  It  was  in  the  age  of  man 
that  Susa-no-wo  made  the  first  poetry  of  thirty  and  one 
syllables.  And  so  by  the  varied  multiplication  of 
thoughts  and  language  we  came  to  express  our  love 
for  flowers,  our  envy  of  birds,  our  emotion  at  the  sight 
of  the  hazes  which  usher  in  the  spring,  or  our  grief  at 
beholding  the  dew.1  As  a distant  journey  is  begun  by 
our  first  footstep  and  goes  on  for  months  and  years,  as  a 
high  mountain  has  its  beginning  in  the  dust  of  its  base 
and  at  length  rises  aloft  and  extends  across  the  sky  like 

1 Dew  with  the  Japanese  poets  suggests  tears,  and  is  associated  with  grief. 


KOKINSHIU  PREFACE  65 

the  clouds  of  heaven,  so  gradual  must  have  been  the  rise 
of  poetry. 

“ In  the  present  day  love  has  seduced  men’s  hearts  into 
a fondness  for  ornament.  Hence  nothing  is  produced 
but  frivolous  poetry  without  depth  of  feeling.  In  the 
houses  of  those  given  to  a life  of  gallantry,  poetry  is  like 
a tree  buried  in  the  ground  and  unknown  to  men  ; while 
with  more  serious  people  it  is  regarded  as  a flowering 
Suzuki 1 which  will  never  bear  ears  of  grain.  If  we  con- 
sider its  origin,  this  ought  not  to  be.  The  Mikados  of 
former  times,  on  a morning  when  the  spring  flowers 
were  in  blossom,  or  on  a night  when  the  autumn  moon 
was  shining,  used  to  send  for  their  courtiers  and  demand 
from  them  verses  suitable  to  the  occasion.  Some  would 
represent  themselves  as  wandering  in  trackless  places  in 
search  of  the  flowers  they  loved  ; others  would  describe 
their  groping  in  the  guideless  dark  and  longing  for  the 
moon.  The  Mikado  would  then  examine  all  such  fancies, 
and  pronounce  this  to  be  clever,  that  to  be  stupid. 

“ Or  else  they  wished  prosperity  to  their  lord,  using  the 
metaphors  of  pebbles2  or  of  Mount  Tsukuba.3  When 
joy  was  too  much  for  them,  when  their  hearts  overflowed 
with  pleasure,  when  they  felt  their  love  to  be  eternal  as 

1  A kind  of  grass. 

2 “ May  our  lord 

Live  for  a thousand  ages, 

Until  the  pebbles 
Become  a rock 
Overgrown  with  mossT 

3 “ Mount  Tsukuba  [so kick  has  two  peaks ] 

Has  a shadow 

On  this  side  and  on  that , 

Bui  the  shadow  of  Our  Lord 
Has  710  shadow  to  excel  it.  ” 


66 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


the  smoke  which  rises  from  Mount  Fuji,  when  they 
longed  for  a friend  with  the  yearning  of  the  cry  of  the 
matsumushi  [a  kind  of  cicada],  when  the  sight  of  the  pair 
of  fir-trees  of  Takasago  and  Suminoye  suggested  a hus- 
band and  wife  growing  old  together,  when  they  thought 
of  their  bygone  days  of  manly  vigour,  or  grudged  to  the 
past  the  one  time  of  maiden  bloom,  it  was  with  poetry 
that  they  comforted  their  hearts.  Again,  when  they 
looked  upon  the  flowers  shed  from  their  stalks  on  a 
spring  morning,  or  heard  the  leaves  falling  on  an 
autumnal  eve,  or  every  year  lamented  the  snow  and 
waves  \i.e.  grey  hairs]  reflected  in  a mirror  ; or,  seeing 
the  dew  upon  the  grass  or  the  foam  upon  water,  were 
startled  to  recognise  in  them  emblems  of  their  own  lives  ; 
or  else,  but  yesterday  in  all  the  pride  of  prosperity, 
to-day,  with  a turn  of  fortune,  saw  themselves  doomed  to 
a wretched  life,  those  dear  to  them  estranged ; or  again 
drew  metaphors  from  the  waves  and  the  fir-clad  moun- 
tain or  the  spring  of  water  in  the  midst  of  the  moor,  or 
gazed  on  the  under  leaves  of  the  autumn  lespedeza,  or 
counted  the  times  a snipe  preens  its  feathers  at  dawn, 
or  compared  mankind  to  a joint  of  bamboo  floating 
down  a stream,  or  expressed  their  disgust  with  the  world 
by  the  simile  of  the  river  Yoshino,  or  heard  that  the 
smoke  no  longer  rises  from  Mount  Fuji,  or  that  the 
bridge  of  Nagara  had  been  repaired — in  all  these  cases 
poetry  it  was  by  which  they  soothed  their  hearts." 

The  above  are  allusions  to  well-known  poems.  Tsura- 
yuki  traces  briefly  the  history  of  Japanese  poetry  in  the 
Nara  period,  and  then  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  more 
recent  poets  whose  effusions  find  a place  in  the  collec- 
tion he  had  made.  The  following  may  have  some  interest 
as  the  earliest  example  of  literary  criticism  in  Japan: — 


TOSA  NIKKI 


67 

“ Henjo  excels  in  form,  but  substance  is  wanting. 
The  emotion  produced  by  his  poetry  is  evanescent,  and 
may  be  compared  to  that  which  we  experience  at  the 
sight  of  a beautiful  woman  in  a painting.  Narihira  over- 
flows with  sentiment,  but  his  language  is  deficient.  His 
verse  is  like  a flower  which,  although  withered  and  with- 
out bloom,  yet  retains  its  fragrance.  Yasuhide  is  skilful 
in  the  use  of  words,  but  they  match  ill  with  his  matter, 
as  if  a shopkeeper  were  to  dress  himself  in  fine  silks. 
Kisen  is  profound,  but  the  connection  between  the  begin- 
ning and  the  end  is  indistinct.  He  may  be  compared  to 
the  autumn  moon,  which,  as  we  gaze  on  it,  is  obscured 
by  the  clouds  of  dawn.  We  have  not  much  of  his  poetry, 
so  that  we  gain  little  towards  understanding  it  by  a com- 
parison of  one  poem  with  another.  Ono  no  Komachi 
belongs  to  the  school  of  Soto-ori-hime  of  ancient  times. 
There  is  feeling  in  her  poems,  but  little  vigour.  She  is 
like  a lovely  woman  who  is  suffering  from  ill  health. 
Want  of  vigour,  however,  is  only  natural  in  a woman’s 
poetry.  Kuronushi’s  verse  is  poor  in  form.  He  re- 
sembles a woodman  burdened  with  faggots  resting  in  the 
shade  of  flowers.” 

“Tosa  Nikki” 

Another  work  of  Tsurayuki's  is  the  Tosa  Nikki  or  Tosa 
Diary.  It  was  written  on  a journey  back  to  Kioto  after 
having  completed  his  term  of  four  years’  service  as 
Prefect  of  that  province. 

The  first  entry  bears  date  the  21st  day  of  the  twelfth 
month,  and  we  learn  from  other  sources  that  the  year 
was  the  fourth  year  of  Shohei.  This  would  be,  according 
to  the  European  reckoning,  some  time  in  the  months  of 
January  or  February  A.D.  935. 


68 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Tsurayuki  begins  by  telling  his  readers  that  diaries 
being  commonly  written  by  men,  this  is  an  attempt  to 
write  a woman’s  diary  ; meaning,  that  it  was  in  the 
Japanese  language  and  written  character,  not  in  Chinese. 
He  then  records  his  departure  from  the  Government 
House  of  Tosa,  and  his  arrival  at  the  port  from  which 
he  was  to  sail.  He  was  accompanied  hither  by  large 
numbers  of  people  who  came  to  take  leave  of  him. 
Most  brought  with  them  parting  presents,  usually  of 
eatables  or  sake.  The  result  was  that  in  Tsurayuki’s 
words,  “ Strange  to  say,  here  we  were  all  fresh  by  the 
shore  of  the  salt  sea.”  He  did  not  actually  set  sail  till 
the  27th,  the  intervening  six  days  being  chiefly  taken  up 
in  disposing  of  the  presents,  and  in  a visit  to  the  newly 
appointed  Prefect,  with  whom  he  spent  a day  and  night 
in  drinking  and  verse-making,  after  which  he  took  a 
final  leave.  Tsurayuki’s  successor  in  office  shook  hands 
with  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps  leading  up  to  the 
house,  and  they  bade  each  other  farewell  with  many 
cordial  but  tipsy  expressions  of  good-will  on  both  sides. 
On  the  following  day,  however,  we  find  Tsurayuki  in  a 
different  frame  of  mind.  He  tells  us  that  during  his  stay 
in  Tosa  a girl  had  died  who  was  born  in  Kioto,  and  that 
amid  all  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  leaving  port,  her 
friends  could  think  of  nothing  but  her.  Some  one,  he 
says,  composed  this  verse  of  poetry  on  the  occasion  : 
“ With  the  joyful  thought,  ‘ Home  to  Kioto/  there 
mingles  the  bitter  reflection  that  there  is  one  who  never 
will  return.”  We  are  informed  by  another  writer  that 
Tsurayuki  here  deplores  the  loss  of  his  own  daughter,  a 
little  girl  of  nine  years  of  age. 

But  the  jollifications  had  not  yet  come  to  an  end.  The 
new  Prefect's  brother  made  his  appearance , at  a project- 


TOSA  NIKKI 


69 

mg  cape  on  their  way  to  the  first  stopping-place,  and 
they  were  accordingly  obliged  to  land  on  the  beach, 
where  there  was  more  drinking  and  composing  of 
verses.  Of  these  Tsurayuki  seems  to  have  had  no  great 
opinion.  He  says  that  it  required  the  united  efforts  of 
two  of  the  party  to  make  one  bad  verse,  and  compares 
them  to  two  fishermen  labouring  along  with  a heavy  net 
on  their  shoulders.  Their  jollity  was  interrupted  by  the 
master  of  the  junk,  who  summoned  them  on  board. 
There  was  a fair  wind,  he  said,  and  the  tide  served  ; and 
Tsurayuki  maliciously  adds  that  there  was  no  more  sake 
to  drink.  They  accordingly  embarked,  and  proceeded 
on  their  voyage. 

On  the  29th  they  had  got  no  farther  than  Ominato,  a 
harbour  only  a few  miles  distant  from  their  starting- 
point.  Here  they  were  detained  for  ten  days  waiting  for 
a fair  wind.  Presents  of  eatables  and  drinkables  still 
came  in,  but  more  sparingly,  and  Tsurayuki  records 
regretfully  the  fate  of  a bottle  of  sake  which  he  had 
fastened  on  the  roof  of  the  cabin,  but  which  was  displaced 
by  the  rolling  of  the  junk  and  fell  overboard.  One  of 
these  presents  was  a pheasant,  which,  according  to  the 
old  Japanese  custom,  was  attached  to  a flowering  branch 
of  plum.  Some  brought  verses  with  their  gifts.  Here 
is  a specimen:  “Louder  than  the  clamour  of  the  white 
surges  on  your  onward  path  will  be  the  cry  of  me 
weeping  that  I am  left  behind.”  Tsurayuki  remarks  that 
if  that  were  really  so,  he  must  have  a very  loud  voice. 

On  the  9th  of  the  second  month  they  at  last  sailed 
from  Ominato.  As  they  passed  Matsubara,  they  admired 
a large  grove  of  ancient  firs  which  grew  by  the  sea- 
shore. Tsurayuki  mentions  the  pleasure  with  which 

they  watched  the  cranes  flying  about  among  their  tops, 
6 


70 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


and  gives  us  this  verse  composed  on  the  occasion : 
“ Casting  my  glance  over  the  sea,  on  each  fir-tree1  top 
a crane  has  his  dwelling.  They  have  been  comrades  for 
a thousand  years." 

It  became  dark  before  they  reached  their  next  stopping- 
place.  The  idea  of  pursuing  their  voyage  all  night  long 
does  not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  them.  Besides,  to 
judge  from  its  having  gone  up  the  Osaka  river  as  far  as 
Yamazaki,  their  junk  must  have  been  a very  small  one, 
and  the  diary  shows  that  it  depended  more  on  oars  than 
on  sails.  Here  is  Tsurayuki’s  description  of  nightfall : — 

“ Whilst  we  rowed  along  gazing  on  this  scene,  the 
mountains  and  the  sea  became  all  dark,  the  night  deep- 
ened, and  east  and  west  could  not  be  distinguished,  so  we 
entrusted  all  thought  of  the  weather  to  the  mind  of  the 
master  of  our  ship.  Even  the  men  who  were  not  ac- 
customed to  the  sea  became  very  sad,  and  still  more  the 
women,  who  rested  their  heads  on  the  bottom  of  the  ship 
and  did  nothing  but  weep.  The  sailors,  however,  seemed 
to  think  nothing  of  it,  and  sung  the  following  boat-song." 
Tsurayuki  gives  a few  lines  of  it,  and  then  proceeds. 
11  There  was  a great  deal  more  of  this  kind  of  stuff,  but  I 
do  not  write  it  down.  Listening  to  the  laughter  at  these 
verses,  our  hearts  became  somewhat  calmed  in  spite  of 
the  raging  of  the  sea.  It  was  quite  dark  when  we  at 
length  reached  our  anchorage  for  the  night." 

Three  more  days  leisurely  travelling  brought  them  to 
Murotsu,  a port  just  to  the  west  of  the  eastern  of  the  two 
horns  which  the  island  of  Shikoku  sends  out  to  the 
southward.  The  morning  after  their  arrival  here,  a slight 
but  constant  rain  prevented  them  from  starting,  and  the 
passengers  took  the  opportunity  to  go  on  shore  for  a 

1 Both  the  crane  and  the  fir  are,  in  Japan,  emblems  of  long  life. 


TOSA  NIKKI 


7 1 


bath.  In  ine  entry  for  this  day,  Tsurayuki  mentions  a 
curious  superstition.  He  tells  us  that  since  the  day  on 
which  they  first  embarked,  no  one  wore  scarlet  or  other 
rich  colours  or  good  silks,  lest  they  should  incur  the 
anger  of  the  gods  of  the  sea.  The  next  day  the  rain 
continued.  It  was  a Buddhist  fast-day,  and  Tsurayuki 
kept  it  faithfully  till  noon  ; but  as  suitable  food  for  fast- 
days  was  not  obtainable  on  board,  he  bought  with  rice  (not 
having  any  copper  cash)  a tai  which  one  of  the  sailors 
had  caught  the  day  before.  This  was  the  beginning  of  a 
trade  between  him  and  the  sailors,  sake  and  rice  being 
exchanged  for  fish.  There  was  no  change  in  the  weather 
till  the  17th,  the  fifth  day  from  their  arrival  at  Murotsu. 
On  that  day  they  started  early  in  the  morning  with  the 
moon,  then  just  past  the  full,  shining  over  a waveless  sea, 
which  reflected  the  sky  so  perfectly,  that,  as  Tsurayuki 
said,  the  heaven  above  and  the  ocean  beneath  could  not 
be  distinguished.  He  composed  the  following  stanza  on 
this  occasion  : “What  is  this  that  strikes  against  my  oar 
as  the  boat  is  rowed  along  over  the  moon  of  the  sea- 
depths  ? Is  it  the  bush  of  the  man  in  the  moon  ? ” 

The  fine  weather,  however,  did  not  continue.  Dark 
clouds  gathering  overhead  alarmed  the  master  of  the  junk, 
and  they  put  back  to  Murotsu  under  a pelting  shower, 
and  feeling  very  miserable.  Three  more  wretched  days 
they  were  obliged  to  remain  here,  endeavouring  with 
indifferent  success  to  while  away  the  time  by  writing 
Chinese  and  Japanese  verses,  and  every  morning  counting 
the  days  that  had  been  already  spent  on  the  voyage.  On 
the  21st  they  again  proceeded  on  their  way.  A large 
number  of  other  junks  sailed  at  the  same  time,  a pretty 
sight,  which  was  greatly  admired  by  Tsurayuki.  “It 
was  spring,"  he  remarks,  “but  it  seemed  as  if  over  the 


72 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


sea  the  leaves  of  autumn  were  being  scattered/’  The 
weather  was  now  fine,  and  they  entered  what  we  call 
the  Kii  Channel. 

Here  they  were  disturbed  by  a fresh  cause  of  anxiety. 
It  seems  that  Tsurayuki  during  his  term  of  office  in 
Tosa  had  had  occasion  to  deal  rather  severely  with  the 
pirates  of  these  parts,  and  it  was  thought  likely  that 
they  would  now  try  to  have  their  revenge.  One  of  the 
commentators  attempts  to  save  Tsurayuki’s  reputation 
for  courage  by  reminding  us  that  this  diary  is  written  i;i 
the  character  of  a woman.  The  course  of  the  narrative 
shows  that  their  fears  were  to  all  appearance  well 
grounded.  Two  days  later  we  find  them  praying  to  the 
Kami  and  Hotoke  1 to  save  them  from  the  pirates.  On 
the  following  days  there  were  constant  alarms,  and  on 
the  26th  they  heard  that  the  pirates  were  actually  in 
pursuit  of  them,  so  they  left  their  anchorage  at  midnight 
and  put  to  sea.  There  was  a place  on  their  way  where 
it  was  usual  to  make  offerings  to  the  God  of  the  Sea. 
Tsurayuki  made  the  captain  offer  nusa2  They  were 
offered  by  being  cast  into  the  air,  and  allowing  the  wind 
to  carry  them  to  the  sea.  The  nusa  fell  in  an  easterly 
direction,  and  the  junk’s  course  was  turned  to  the  same 
quarter.  To  the  great  joy  of  all  on  board,  they  had  now 
a favourable  wind,  sail  was  set,  and  they  made  a good 
day’s  run.  The  next  two  days  they  were  again  storm- 
bound, but  on  the  29th  they  proceeded  on  their  voyage. 
On  the  30th  they  crossed  the  entrance  to  the  Naruto 
passage,  and  the  same  night,  by  dint  of  hard  rowing,  they 
reached  the  strait  of  Idzumi.  They  had  now  reached  the 
Gokinai,  or  five  provinces  round  Kioto,  and  here  there  was 

1 Shinto  and  Buddhist  gods. 

3 The  strips  of  white  paper  seen  in  Shinto  shrines,  and  also  called  gohet. 


TOSA  NIKKI 


73 


no  longer  any  fear  of  pirates.  The  ist  day  of  the  second 
month  they  made  little  way,  and  on  the  2nd  we  have 
the  following  entry  : “ The  rain  and  wind  ceased  not ; 
a whole  day  and  a whole  night  we  prayed  to  the  Kami 
and  Hotoke.”  On  the  next  day  the  weather  was  equally 
bad,  and  on  the  4th  the  captain  would  not  put  to  sea, 
from  a fear  of  bad  weather  which  proved  quite  ground- 
less. There  were  a great  many  beautiful  shells  on  the 
beach  at  this  place,  and  Tsurayuki  composed  these  lines 
in  allusion  to  a shell  which  is  called  in  Japanese  the 
wasure-gai  or  “ shell  of  forgetfulness:''  “ I would  descend 
from  my  ship  to  gather  the  shell  of  forgetfulness  of  one 
for  whom  I am  filled  with  sorrowful  longing.  Do  ye,  oh 
ye  advancing  surges,  drive  it  forward  to  the  strand." 
He  afterwards  says  that  the  true  wish  of  his  heart  was 
not  to  forget  her  whom  he  had  lost,  but  only  to  give 
such  respite  to  his  sorrow  that  it  might  afterwards  gain 
greater  strength. 

The  following  is  part  of  the  entry  for  the  5th,  the  day 
before  they  arrived  in  the  Osaka  river.  They  were  now 
opposite  Sumiyoshi. 

“ Meanwhile  a sudden  gale  sprung  up,  and  in  spite  of 
all  our  efforts  we  fell  gradually  to  leeward,  and  were  in 
great  danger  of  being  sent  to  the  bottom.  1 This  god  of 
Sumiyoshi,'  said  the  captain,  ‘ is  like  other  gods.  What 
he  desires  is  not  any  of  the  fashionable  articles  of  the 
day.  Give  him  nusa  as  an  offering.'  The  captain's  ad- 
vice was  taken,  and  nusa  were  offered  ; but  as  the  wind, 
instead  of  ceasing,  only  blew  harder  and  harder,  and  the 
danger  from  the  storm  and  sea  became  more  and  more 
imminent,  the  captain  again  said,  1 Because  the  august 
heart  of  the  god  is  not  moved  for  nusa}  neither  does  the 
august  ship  move ; offer  to  him  something  in  which  he 


74  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

will  take  greater  pleasure/  In  compliance  with  this 
advice,  I bethought  me  what  it  would  be  best  to  offer. 
4 Of  eyes  I have  a pair — then  let  me  give  to  the  god  my 
mirror,  of  which  I have  only  one/  The  mirror  was 
accordingly  flung  into  the  sea,  to  my  very  great  regret ; 
but  no  sooner  had  I done  so  than  the  sea  itself  became 
as  smooth  as  a mirror/' 

The  next  day  they  entered  the  Osaka  river.  All  the 
passengers,  men,  women,  and  children,  were  overjoyed 
at  reaching  this  point  of  their  voyage,  and  clasped  their 
foreheads  with  their  hands  in  ecstasies  of  delight. 
Several  days  were  now  spent  in  dragging  the  vessel 
laboriously  against  the  strong  current  of  the  river.  A 
fast-day  occurred  on  their  way  up  it,  which  Tsurayuki 
had  this  time  the  satisfaction  of  keeping  properly  by 
abstaining  entirely  from  fish.  On  the  12th  they  reached 
Yamazaki,  from  which  place  a carriage  (that  is,  one  of 
the  bullock-carts  in  which  nobles  rode)  was  sent  for  to 
Kioto,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  16th  they  left  Yamazaki 
for  the  capital.  Tsurayuki  was  greatly  delighted  to  re- 
cognise the  old  familiar  landmarks  as  he  rode  along.  He 
mentions  the  children’s  playthings  and  sweetmeats  in  the 
shops  as  looking  exactly  as  when  he  went  away,  and 
wonders  whether  he  will  find  as  little  change  in  the  hearts 
of  his  friends.  He  had  purposely  left  Yamazaki  in  the 
evening  in  order  that  it  might  be  night  when  he  reached 
his  own  dwelling.  I translate  his  account  of  the  state  in 
which  he  found  it : — 

“ When  I reached  my  house  and  entered  the  gate  the 
moon  was  shining  brightly,  and  its  condition  was  plainly 
to  be  seen.  It  was  decayed  and  ruined  beyond  all 
description — worse  even  than  I had  been  told.  The 
heart  of  the  man  in  whose  charge  I left  it  must  have  been 


TOSA  NIKKI 


75 


in  an  equally  dilapidated  condition.  The  fence  between 
the  two  houses  had  been  broken  down,  so  that  both 
seemed  but  one,  and  he  appeared  to  have  fulfilled  his 
charge  by  looking  in  through  the  gaps.  And  yet  I had 
supplied  him  by  every  opportunity  with  the  means  of 
keeping  it  in  repair.  To-night,  however,  I would  not 
allow  him  to  be  told  this  in  an  angry  tone,  but  in  spite 
of  my  vexation,  offered  him  an  acknowledgment  for  his 
trouble.  There  was  in  one  place  a sort  of  pond  where 
water  had  collected  in  a hollow,  by  the  side  of  which 
grew  a fir-tree.  It  had  lost  half  its  branches,  and  looked 
as  if  a thousand  years  had  passed  during  the  five  or  six 
years  of  my  absence.  Younger  trees  had  grown  up 
round  it/  and  the  whole  place  was  in  a most  neglected 
condition,  so  that  every  one  said  that  it  was  pitiful  to  see. 
Among  other  sad  thoughts  that  rose  spontaneously  to  my 
mind  was  the  memory — ah,  how  sorrowful  ! — of  one  who 
was  born  in  this  house,  but  who  did  not  return  here  along 
with  me.  My  fellow-travellers  were  chatting  merrily  with 
their  children  in  their  arms  ; but  I meanwhile,  still  un- 
able to  contain  my  grief,  privately  repeated  these  lines 
to  one  who  knew  my  heart." 

I shall  not  give  the  verses,  but  proceed  to  the  last 
sentence  of  the  diary,  which  is  as  follows  : “ I cannot 
write  down  all  my  many  regrets  and  memories  ; be  it  for 
good  or  for  evil,  here  I will  fling  away  my  pern" 

The  Tosa  Nikki  is  a striking  example  of  the  importance 
of  style.  It  contains  no  exciting  adventures  or  romantic 
situations ; there  are  in  it  no  wise  maxims  or  novel 
information  ; its  only  merit  is  that  it  describes  in  simple 
yet  elegant  language,  and  with  a vein  of  playful  humour, 
the  ordinary  life  of  a traveller  in  Japan  at  the  time  when 
it  was  written,  But  this  has  proved  sufficient  to  give  it 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


a high  rank  amongst  Japanese  classics,  and  has  insured 
its  being  handed  down  to  our  own  day  as  a most  esteemed 
model  for  composition  in  the  native  Japanese  style.  It  has 
been  followed  by  many  imitations,  but  has  had  no  equal. 

“Taketori  Monogatari”  and  “ Ise  Monogatari  ” 

Monogatari , a word  which  will  be  frequently  met  with 
below,  means  “ narrative."  It  is  applied  chiefly  to  fiction, 
but  there  are  some  true  histories  which  fall  under  this 
denomination. 

The  date  and  authorship  of  both  these  books  is  un- 
known. We  may,  however,  accept  the  opinion  of  the 
eminent  native  critic  Motoori,  that  they  belong  to  a time 
not  long  after  the  period  Yengi  (901-922).  Both  are 
obviously  the  work  of  persons  well  versed  in  the  litera- 
ture of  the  day,  and  familiar  with  court  life  in  Kioto. 

The  Taketori  Monogatari 1 is  usually  given  the  pre- 
cedence in  order  of  time.  It  is  what  we  should  call  a 
fairy-tale.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Kioto,  and  the  personages  are  all  Japanese.  The  lan- 
guage too  is  as  nearly  as  possible  pure  Japanese.  But 
there  are  abundant  traces  of  foreign  influences.  The 
supernatural  machinery  is  either  Buddhist  or  Taoist,  and 
most  even  of  the  incidents  are  borrowed  from  the  copious 
fairy-lore  of  China. 

An  old  man  who  earned  a living  by  making  bamboo- 
ware  ( Taketori  means  bamboo-gatherer)  espied  one  day 
in  the  woods  a bamboo  with  a shining  stem.  He  split 
it  open,  and  discovered  in  one  of  the  joints  a beautiful 
little  maiden  three  inches  in  height.  He  took  her  home 
and  adopted  her  as  his  daughter,  giving  her  the  name  of 

1 Translated  by  Mr.  F.  V.  Dick  ins  in  the  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic 
Society , January  1887, 


TAKETORI  MONOGATARI 


77 


Kaguyahime  or  the  “ shining  damsel."  She  speedily 
grew  up  to  womanhood,  when  her  beauty  attracted 
numerous  admirers.  To  each  of  them  she  assigned  a 
quest,  promising  that  she  would  marry  the  suitor  who 
successfully  accomplished  the  task  allotted  to  him.  One 
lover  was  told  to  fetch  Buddha’s  begging-bowl  of  stone 
from  India;  another  to  bring  her  a branch  of  the  tree  with 
roots  of  silver,  stem  of  gold,  and  fruit  of  jewels,  which 
grew  in  the  fabulous  island  Paradise  of  Mount  Horai. 
From  the  third  she  required  a garment  made  of  the  fur 
of  the  fire-rat,  supposed  to  be  uninflammable.  The 
fourth  was  to  procure  the  shining  jewel  of  many  hues 
of  the  dragon’s  head,  and  the  fifth  a swallow's  cowry- 
shell.  They  all  failed.  The  maiden  was  then  wooed  by 
the  Mikado,  but  equally  in  vain,  though  they  remained  on 
friendly  terms  and  kept  up  an  exchange  of  sentimental 
Tanka.  She  was  eventually  taken  up  to  heaven  in  a flying 
chariot,  brought  by  her  relatives  in  the  moon,  whence 
it  seems  she  had  been  banished  to  earth  for  an  offence 
which  she  had  committed. 

The  episode  of  the  quest  of  the  golden  branch  from 
Mount  Horai  may  serve  as  a specimen  of  this  work. 
Prince  Kuramochi,  to  whom  this  task  was  allotted,  having 
had  a counterfeit  branch  made  by  cunning  workmen, 
produces  it  and  claims  his  reward.  The  old  man  asks 
him  to  tell  in  what  manner  of  place  he  obtained  this 
“ marvellous,  graceful,  and  lovely  ” branch.  Prince 
Kuramochi  thereupon . relates  his  supposed  voyage  to 
Mount  Horai,  not,  it  will  be  observed,/  without  some 
bungling  and  repetition  natural  to  a man  who  has  to 
make  up  his  story  as  he  goes  along  : — 

“ Three  years  ago,  on  the  ioth  day  of  the  second 
month,  we  embarked  from  Osaka,  We  knew  not  what 


78 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


course  we  should  take  when  we  put  out  to  sea,  but  as 
I felt  that  life  would  be  valueless  if  I could  not  have  my 
heart’s  desire  fulfilled,  we  sailed  on,  entrusting  ourselves 
to  the  empty  winds.  If  we  perish,  thought  we,  there  is  no 
help  for  it.  So  long  as  we  live,  however,  we  will  sail  on 
until  it  may  be  we  reach  this  island,  called,  it  seems, 
Mount  Horai.  With  such  thoughts  we  rowed  on  over 
the  ocean,  and  tossed  about  until  we  left  far  behind  the 
shores  of  our  own  land.  In  our  wanderings  we  were  at 
one  time  like  to  go  down  even  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea 
whilst  the  waves  were  raging  ; at  another  time  we  were 
borne  by  the  wind  to  an  unknown  country  where  crea- 
tures like  devils  came  forth  and  tried  to  kill  us.  At  one 
time,  knowing  neither  the  way  we  had  come  nor  the 
course  we  should  follow,  we  were  almost  lost  upon  the 
sea ; at  another  our  provisions  became  spent,  and  we 
used  the  roots  of  trees  for  food.  Once  beings  hideous 
beyond  description  came  and  attempted  to  devour  us, 
and  once  we  sustained  life  by  gathering  shell -fish. 
Under  a strange  sky,  where  there  was  none  to  render 
us  aid,  we  tossed  about  over  the  sea,  a prey  to  diseases 
of  all  kinds,  and  leaving  the  ship  to  her  own  spon- 
taneous motion,  for  we  knew  not  at  all  the  course  we 
ought  to  follow.  At  last,  when  five  hundred  days  had 
passed,  about  the  hour  of  the  dragon  a mountain  became 
faintly  visible  in  the  midst  of  the  sea.  All  in  the  ship 
gazed  steadfastly  at  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  a very  great 
mountain  which  floated  about  upon  the  surface.  Its 
appearance  was  lofty  and  picturesque.  This,  we  thought, 
must  be  the  mountain  we  are  seeking.  No  wonder  we 
were  filled  with  dread  at  its  sight.  We  sailed  round  it  for 
two  or  three  days.  Then  there  came  forth  from  amongst 
the  hills  a woman  clothed  like  an  inhabitant  of  heaven, 


TAKETORI  MONOGATARI 


79 


and  drew  water  in  a silver  vessel.  When  we  saw  her,  we 
landed  from  the  ship,  and  asked  what  might  be  the  name 
of  this  mountain.  The  woman  replied  and  said,  ‘This  is 
Mount  Horai.'  Our  joy  was  unbounded.  ‘And  who,’ 
we  inquired,  ‘is  she  who  tells  us  so?'  ‘My  name  is 
Hokanruri,’  she  said,  and  of  a sudden  went  away  in 
among  the  hills. 

“There  seemed  no  way  to  climb  this  mountain,  so  we 
went  round  its  side,  where  flowering  trees  unknown  in 
this  world  were  growing.  Streams  of  golden,  silver,  and 
emerald  hue  flowed  forth  from  it,  spanned  by  bridges  of 
all  manner  of  jewels.  Here  stood  shining  trees,  the  least 
beautiful  of  which  was  that  of  which  1 brought  away  a 
branch,  but,  as  it  answered  Kaguyahime’s  description,  I 
plucked’ it  and  came  away.  That  mountain  is  delightful 
beyond  measure,  and  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  to 
compare  with  it.  But  when  I had  got  the  branch,  I 
became  impatient  to  return  ; so  we  embarked  in  our  ship, 
and  the  wind  being  fair,  arrived  at  Osaka  after  a voyage 
of  over  four  hundred  days.  Urged  by  my  great  desire, 
I left  for  the  capital  yesterday,  and  now  I present  myself 
here  without  even  changing  my  garments  soaked  with 
brine.” 

(I  omit  a verse  of  poetry  in  which  the  old  man  ex- 
presses his  sympathy  with  the  Prince’s  sufferings,  and 
also  the  Prince’s  poetical  reply.) 

At  this  juncture  a party  of  six  men  appeared  in  the 
courtyard.  One  of  them,  who  held  in  his  hand  a cleft 
stick,  with  a paper  in  it,  said  : “ I,  Ayabe  no  Uchimaro, 
the  head  smith  of  your  workshop,  beg  humbly  to  state — 
For  more  than  a thousand  days  I and  my  men  have 
laboured  with  all  our  strength  and  most  heedful  care  in 
making  for  you  the  jewel-branch,  but  yet  have  received 


8o 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


from  you  no  wages.  I pray  you  let  me  receive  them,  so 
that  I may  pay  my  men."  So  saying,  he  presented  his 
paper.  The  old  bamboo-cutter,  with  his  head  bowed 
down  in  thought,  wondered  what  the  words  of  this  work- 
man might  mean,  while  the  Prince,  beside  himself  with 
dismay,  felt  as  if  his  heart  were  melting  within  him. 
When  Kagayuhime  heard  this,  she  said,  “ Bring  me  that 
paper."  It  read  as  follows  : — 

“ My  Lord  the  Prince, — When  you  shut  yourself  up 
for  more  than  a thousand  days  with  us  mean  workmen, 
and  made  us  fashion  the  wonderful  jewel-branch,  you 
promised  to  reward  us  with  official  appointments.  As 
we  were  lately  thinking  over  this,  we  remembered  that 
you  had  told  us  that  the  branch  was  required  by 
the  lady  Kaguyahime,  whose  lord  you  were  to  be,  and  it 
occurred  to  us  that  in  this  palace  we  should  receive  our 
reward." 

Kaguyahime,  whose  heart  had  been  growing  sadder 
and  sadder  as  the  sun  went  down,  bloomed  into  smiles. 
She  called  the  old  man  to  her  and  said,  “Truly  I had 
thought  that  it  was  no  other  than  the  real  tree  of  Mount 
Horai.  Now  that  we  know  that  it  is  but  a sorry  counter- 
feit, give  it  back  to  him  at  once." 

Compared  with  the  later  literature  of  the  Heian  period, 
the  style  of  the  Taketori  is  artless  and  unformed,  but  its 
naive  simplicity  accords  well  with  the  subject-matter,  and 
is  not  without  a charm  of  its  own. 

The  Ise  Monogatari  is  one  of  the  most  admired  pro- 
ductions of  the  older  Japanese  literature.  Its  style  is 
clear  and  concise,  and  far  surpasses  in  elegance  that  of 
the  Taketori  Monogatari. 

It  consists  of  a number  of  short  chapters  which  have 
little  connection  with  each  other,  except  that  they  all 


ISE  MO N OGATA R I 


8 i 


relate  incidents  in  the  life  of  a gay  young  nobleman  of 
the  court  of  Kioto,  who  is  usually  identified  with  a real 
personage  named  Narihira.  Narihira  lived  about  a cen- 
tury before  the  date  when  the  Ise  M onogatari  was  written, 
but  he  is  supposed  to  have  left  diaries  on  which  this  work 
was  founded.  What  truth  there  may  be  in  this  it  is  now 
impossible  to  ascertain,  nor  does  it  much  concern  us  to 
know.  The  long  series  of  love  affairs  in  which  the  hero 
is  involved  are  more  suggestive  of  fiction  than  of  fact,  and 
the  most  plausible  explanation  of  the  title  of  the  work 
points  to  the  same  conclusion.  It  seems  that  the  men 
of  Ise,  like  the  Cretans  of  old,  were  not  remarkable  for 
veracity,  so  that  the  author,  by  calling  his  work  Talcs  of 
Ise , probably  meant  to  convey  a broad  hint  to  his  readers 
that  they  must  not  take  everything  in  it  for  truth.  A 
free  rendering  of  Ise  M onogatari  would  be  Tales  for  the 
Marines — a title  under  which  we  should  not  expect  to 
find  a very  conscientious  adherence  to  actual  fact. 

It  is  a caprice  of  the  author  to  make  all  his  chapters 
begin  with  the  word  Mukashi , the  Japanese  equivalent 
of  the  “ a long  time  ago  ” of  our  fairy  tales.  Each 
serves  as  a setting  for  one  or  two  little  poems  of  more 
than  average  merit  which  are  put  into  the  mouth  of  the 
hero  and  his  numerous  inamoratas. 

The  first  few  chapters  relate  some  juvenile  love  ad- 
ventures of  the  hero.  The  following  may  serve  as  a 
specimen  : — 

“ A long  time  ago  there  dwelt  a woman  in  the  Western 
Pavilion  which  was  occupied  by  the  Empress  in  East 
Gojo.1  Here  she  was  visited  by  one  who  loved  her 

1 The  city  of  Kioto  is  divided  into  sections  by  parallel  streets  somewhat  in 
the  fashion  of  the  “ Avenues”  of  New  York.  Gojd  (fifth  column)  is  one  of 
these.  It  is  the  principal  shopping  street  of  Kioto  at  the  present  day. 


82 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


deeply,  though  in  secret.  About  the  ioth  day  of  the 
first  month  she  concealed  herself  elsewhere.  He  learned 
where  she  was  living,  but  as  it  was  a place  where  visits 
were  impossible,  he  remained  plunged  in  melancholy,. 
In  the  first  month  of  the  following  year,  reminded  of  the 
previous  spring  by  the  flowering  of  the  plum-trees  before 
his  house,  he  went  to  the  Western  Pavilion,  and  stood 
there  gazing.  But  gaze  as  he  might,  there  was  to  his 
mind  no  resemblance  to  the  scene  of  the  year  before. 
At  last  he  burst  into  tears,  and  laying  himself  down  on 
the  shattered  floor,  thought  longingly  of  the  bygone  time 
until  the  moon  went  down.  He  composed  this  poem — 

“ Moon  ? There  is  none. 

Spring?  ’ Tis  not  the  spring 
Of  former  days : 

It  is  I alone 

Who  have  remained  unchanged ” 1 — 

and  then  took  his  way  homeward  as  the  night  was  break 
ing  into  dawn." 

A Western  writer  would  have  expanded  this  into  a 
sonnet  at  least,  but  within  the  narrow  bounds  of  thirty- 
one  syllables  prescribed  by  custom  to  the  Japanese  poet, 
it  is  hardly  possible  to  express  more  forcibly  the  blank 
feeling  of  despair  at  the  sight  of  familiar  scenes  which 
are  no  longer  brightened  by  the  presence  of  the  loved 
one.  The  moon  and  spring  flowers  are  there  before  his 
eyes,  but  as  they  do  not  move  him  as  they  did  formerly, 

1 The  following  is  an  attempt  to  imitate  as  nearly  as  possible  the  metrical 
movement  of  the  original,  which,  however,  has  no  rhyme  : — 

“ Moon  ? There  is  none.  “ Tsukiya!  aranu: 

Where  are  spring's  wonted  fowers  ? Haruya  1 mukashi  no 

I see  not  one.  Haru  naranu : 

All  else  is  changed, , hut  I Waga  mi  hitotsu  wa 

Love  on  unalteringly. ” Moto  no  mi  ni  shite.” 


ISE  MONOGATARI 


83 


he  boldly  denies  their  existence,  giving  emphasis  by  the 
contrast  to  the  declaration  of  his  own  unchanging  love. 
H is  subsequent  adventures,  it  must  be  confessed,  do  not 
speak  highly  for  his  constancy. 

After  several  other  unfortunate  love  affairs,  the  hero 
found  his  life  in  Kioto  intolerable,  and  set  out  on  an  ex- 
pedition to  the  east  of  Japan.  His  journey  gives  occa 
sion  for  the  introduction  of  a number  of  stanzas  descriptive 
of  the  remarkable  sights  on  the  way,  such  as  the  smok- 
ing summit  of  Mount  Asama,  and  the  snow  on  Fujiyama 
in  the  height  of  summer.  He  and  his  people  crossed 
the  river  Sumida,  where  Tokio  now  stands,  in  a ferry- 
boat at  nightfall.  The  dismal  scene  made  them  all  feel 
as  if  they  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  world,  and  their 
thoughts  went  back  with  longing  to  their  homes  in  Kioto. 
There  were  some  birds  on  the  river  known  to  us  as 
11  oyster-catchers,"  but  to  the  Japanese  by  the  more 
poetical  name  of  Mivakodori,  or  “ birds  of  the  capital.” 
Narihira  exclaims — 

“ O thou  bird  of  Miyako  ! 

If  such  be  thy  name , 

Come  ! this  question  I would  ask  thee — 

Is  she  whom  I love 

Still  alive , or  is  she  no  more  ? ” 

On  hearing  this,  every  one  in  the  boat  was  moved  to 
tears.  But  Narihira  is  not  always  so  sentimental.  Some 
of  his  adventures  are  intended  to  be  more  or  less 
comical. 

We  soon  after  find  him  in  one  of  the  northern  pro- 
vinces, where  a rustic  beauty,  eager  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  a fashionable  young  gentleman  from 
Kioto,  sends  him  a poem  (of  course  in  thirty-one  syl- 
lables) of  invitation.  He  condescends  to  visit  her,  but 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


84  . 

takes  his  leave  while  it  is  still  pitch-dark.  As  Juliet,  under 
somewhat  similar  circumstances,  reviles  the  lark,  the 
lady,  attributing  his  departure  to  the  crowing  of  a cock? 
vents  her  displeasure  in  the  following  stanza,  which  still 
lingers  in  the  popular  memory  : — 

“ When  morning  dawns 
I would  that  a fox 
Would  devour  that  cock 
Who , by  his  unseasonable  crowing , 

Has  driven  away  my  spouse  / ” 

I have  before  me  two  of  the  many  editions  of  this 
work.  One  is  by  the  eminent  scholar  and  critic  Ma- 
buchi,  and  contains  much  more  commentary  than  text. 
The  other  (dated  1608)  is  perhaps  worthy  of  the  attention 
of  book-collectors  whose  mental  horizon  is  not  bounded 
by  Europe.  It  is  in  two  volumes,  block-printed  on 
variously-tinted  paper,  and  adorned  with  numerous  full- 
page  illustrations  which  are  among  the  very  earliest 
specimens  of  the  wood-engraver's  art  in  Japan. 

The  Utsubo  Monogatari  is  conjectured  to  have  been 
written  by  the  same  author  as  the  Taketori  Monogatari , 
and  the  style  and  matter  of  the  first  of  the  fourteen 
stories  of  which  it  consists  go  far  to  confirm  this  supposi- 
tion, though  it  may  perhaps  be  a question  whether  the 
whole  collection  is  by  the  same  person.  It  is  mentioned 
in  the  Genji  Monogatari  and  in  the  Makura  Zoshi}  works 
which  belong  to  the  end  of  the  tenth  or  the  beginning 
of  the  eleventh  century,  and  was  probably  composed 
some  fifty  or  sixty  years  earlier.  No  exact  date  can  be 
assigned  for  its  composition. 

The  style  of  the  Utsubo  Monogatari  is  plain  and 
straightforward;  but  it  has  unfortunately  suffered  greatly 
at  the  hands  of  copyists  and  editors,  and  also  from  the 


UTSUBO  MONOG ATARI  85 

ravages  of  time,  so  that  the  text,  as  we  now  have  it,  is  in 
a very  unsatisfactory  condition. 

The  title  of  the  first  story,  “ Toshikage,”  is  taken  from 
the  name  of  the  hero.  It  is  the  best  known  of  the  series, 
and  has  been  published  separately,  as  if  it  were  the  entire 
work.  Like  the  Taketori  Monogatari , it  belongs  to  the 
class  of  fiction  best  described  as  Mahrchen. 

The  hero  is  a son  of  a member  of  the  Fujiwara  family 
by  an  Imperial  Princess.  In  other  words,  he  has  in  his 
veins  the  bluest  blood  in  Japan.  His  parents  purposely 
allow  him  to  grow  up  without  any  teaching,  but  he 
nevertheless  learns  with  astonishing  quickness,  and  at 
seven  years  of  age  holds  a correspondence  in  the  Chinese 
written  character  with  a stranger  from  Corea  who  is  on 
a visit  to  Japan.  The  Mikado,  hearing  of  his  remarkable 
talent,  holds  an  examination,  at  which  Toshikage  far  sur- 
passes ajl  his  competitors.  He  subsequently  receives  an 
official  appointment  at  the  court,  and  later,  at  the  age  of 
sixteen,  is  made  Ambassador  to  China.  Two  of  the  three 
ships  in  which  the  embassy  sailed  are  lost  during  a 
storm,  and  Toshikage's  own  vessel  drives  ashore  in  a 
strange  country,  everybody  (apparently)  being  drowned 
but  Toshikage  himself.  On  landing,  he  puts  up  a prayer 
to  the  Buddhist  goddess  Kwannon.  A black  horse, 
ready  saddled,  makes  his  appearance,  and  carries  him 
to  a spot  where  there  are  three  men  under  a sandal- 
tree  seated  on  tiger-skins  and  playing  on  lutes  (koto). 
The  horse  vanishes.  Toshikage  remains  here  until  the 
following  spring,  when  hearing  in  the  west  the  sound 
as  of  men  felling  trees,  he  resolves  to  follow  it.  Taking 
a courteous  leave  of  his  three  hosts,  he  sets  out  on  his 
quest.  Seas  and  rivers,  mountains  and  valleys  are  crossed, 
but  it  is  not  until  the  spring  of  the  next  year  but  one  that 
7 


86 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


he  arrives  at  his  destination.  Here  in  a valley  he  sees  a 
company  of  Asura  (demons  of  Indian  myth)  engaged 
in  cutting  up  an  immense  kiri-tree  ( Paullownia  Imperialis) 
which  they  had  felled.  These  demons  “ had  hair  like 
upright  sword-blades,  their  faces  burned  like  flames  of 
fire,  their  feet  and  hands  resembled  spades  and  mattocks, 
their  eyes  gleamed  like  chargers  of  burnished  metal." 
Toshikage  is  in  danger  of  faring  ill  at  their  hands,  when 
a boy  comes  down  from  the  sky,  riding  on  a dragon, 
amid  a storm  of  thunder  and  lightning  and  rain,  bearing 
a golden  tablet,  with  instructions  to  the  Asura  to  let  him 
go,  and  to  give  him  part  of  the  tree  they  had  felled,  so 
that  he  might  make  it  into  lutes.  He  makes  thirty  lutes 
and  goes  his  way,  the  lutes  being  carried  for  him  by  a 
whirlwind,  which  arises  opportunely. 

After  other  adventures  of  an  equally  wonderful  kind, 
Toshikage  returns  to  Japan  and  makes  his  report  to  the 
Mikado.  He  retires  into  private  life,  marries,  and  has 
one  daughter.  He  and  his  wife  die,  leaving  the  daughter 
in  great  poverty.  She  lives  in  a secluded  spot  in  the 
suburbs  of  Kioto,  where  she  is  one  day  visited  by  a youth 
who  was  accompanying  his  father  to  worship  at  the 
shrine  of  Kamo.  On  his  return  home  the  next  morning, 
his  father,  enraged  at  him  for  giving  his  parents  so  great 
anxiety  by  his  disappearance,  forbids  him  in  future  to 
leave  his  sight  for  a moment.  When,  after  some  years, 
he  is  able  to  visit  the  place  where  his  lady-love  dwelt,  the 
house  had  completely  disappeared. 

Meanwhile  Toshikage’s  daughter  gives  birth  to  a child, 
who,  like  many  of  the  heroes  of  Chinese  and  Japanese 
romance,  is  a prodigy  of  precocious  talent  and  filial 
devotion.  At  the  age  of  five  he  sustains  his  mother  by 
the  fish  which  he  catches,  and  at  a later  time  brings  her 


UTSUBO  MONOGATARI 


87 


fruit  and  roots  from  the  mountains.  Finding,  however, 
that  this  obliges  him  to  leave  her  too  much  alone,  he 
seeks  a place  in  the  woods  where  he  can  lodge  her,  and 
finds  a great  hollow1  tree,  which  he  thought  would  serve 
his  purpose.  It  is  already  the  home  of  a family  of  bears. 
They  are  about  to  devour  the  intruder,  when  he  remon- 
strates with  them  as  follows : — 

“ Stay  a little  and  do  not  destroy  my  life,  for  I am  a 
filial  child,  the  support  of  my  mother,  who  lives  all  alone 
in  a ruined  house,  without  parents,  or  brothers,  or  any 
one  to  attend  upon  her.  As  I could  do  nothing  for  her 
in  the  village  where  we  live,  I come  to  this  mountain  to 
get  her  fruit  and  roots.  Having  to  climb  up  lofty  peaks, 
and  to  descend  into  deep  valleys,  I leave  home  in  the 
morning  and  return  when  it  is  dark.  This  is  a source  of 
great  distress  to  us.  I therefore  thought  of  bringing  her 
to  this  hollow  tree,  not  knowing  it  to  be  the  dwelling  of 
such  a king  of  the  mountain.  ...  If  there  is  any  part 
of  me  which  is  not  useful  for  my  mother's  support,  I will 
sacrifice  it  to  you.  But  without  feet  how  could  I go 
about  ? Without  hands  how  could  I gather  fruit  or  dig 
up  roots  for  her  ? Without  a mouth  where  would  the 
breath  of  life  find  a passage  ? Without  a breast  where 
would  my  heart  find  a lodgment  ? In  this  body  there  is 
no  part  which  is  not  of  service  except  the  lobes  of  my 
ears  and  the  tip  of  my  nose.  These  I offer  to  the  king 
of  the  mountain.” 

This  discourse  moves  the  bears  to  tears,  and  they  at 
once  give  up  the  hollow  tree  to  him  and  seek  a home 
elsewhere. 

The  mother  and  son  live  here  for  many  years,  being 
supplied  with  food  by  a number  of  monkeys.  They  are 

1 “Hollow”  is  in  Japanese  uisubo , whence  the  name  of  the  whole  work. 


88 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ultimately  discovered  by  the  father,  who  comes  here  on 
a hunting  expedition.  He  builds  them  a fine  mansion  in 
Kioto,  in  which  they  all  live  happily  ever  after. 

The  Hamamatsu  Chiunagon  Monogatari  is  a story  of 
a Japanese  noble  who  goes  to  China  and  has  an  amour 
with  the  Empress.  He  brings  back  to  Japan  with  him  a 
child  who  was  the  fruit  of  their  union.  The  author  is 
unknown.  It  belongs  to  the  second  half  of  the  tenth 
century. 

The  story  called  Ochikubo  Monogatari  also  belongs  to  the 
second  half  of  the  tenth  century.  Mabuchi  would  assign 
it  to  the  period  from  967  to  969.  Its  author  is  said  to  be 
one  Minamoto  no  Shitagaii,  a small  official  and  famous 
scholar,  who  flourished  in  the  reigns  of  the  Mikados 
Murakami,  Reizei,  and  Yenyu.  The  name  Ochikubo 
means  11  underground  cavity."  The  heroine,  a young 
lady  of  noble  birth,  is  confined  in  a room  underground 
by  her  step-mother.  She  has  a very  miserable  time,  until 
by  the  help  of  a female  servant  she  makes  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a young  nobleman,  who  assists  her  to  escape.  Of 
course  they  are  married  and  live  happily  ever  after. 

A work  named  Sumiyoshi  Monogatari  is  mentioned 
in  the  Makura  Zoshi.  Critics,  however,  are  agreed 
that  the  book  now  known  by  that  name  is  a forgery  of 
a later  date.  It  is  also  a story  of  a wicked  step-mother 
(a  favourite  character  of  far-eastern  fiction),  and  of  the 
events  which  led  in  due  course  to  her  condign  punish- 
ment. 

The  author  of  the  Yamato  Monogatari  is  really  un- 
known, though  it  has  been  ascribed  by  some  to  Shige- 
haru,  a son  of  Narihira,  the  hero  of  the  Ise  Monogatari, 
and  by  others  to  the  Mikado  Kwazan.  It  is  an  imitation 
of  the  Ise  Monogatari , but  is  much  inferior  to  its  model, 


YAMATO  MONOGATARI 


89 


and  the  style  is  wanting  in  clearness  and  conciseness.  It 
is  a collection  of  stories  adorned  with  Tanka  after  the 
manner  of  the  earlier  work.  There  is,  however,  no  con- 
necting link  between  them.  The  following  is  one  of  the 
best  known  of  the  series : — 

“A  long  time  ago  there  dwelt  a maid  in  the  province 
of  Tsu.  She  was  wooed  by  two  lovers,  one  of  whom, 
Mubara  by  name,  lived  in  the  same  province  ; the  other, 
called  Chinu,  belonged  to  the  province  of  Idzumi. 

“Now  these  youths  were  of  like  age,  and  were  also 
alike  in  face,  form,  and  stature.  The  maid  thought  of 
accepting  the  one  who  loved  her  best,  but  here,  too,  no 
difference  could  be  found  between  them.  When  night 
fell  they  both  came  together,  and  when  they  made  her 
presents,  the  presents  of  both  were  alike.  Neither  of 
them  could  be  said  to  surpass  the  other,  so  that  the 
maiden  was  sore  distressed  in  mind.  If  their  devotion 
had  been  of  vulgar  sort  she  would  have  refused  them 
both.  But  as  for  days  and  months  the  one  and  the  other 
presented  themselves  at  her  door,  and  showed  their  love 
in  all  manner  of  ways,  their  attentions  made  her  utterly 
wretched.  Both  persisted  in  coming  with  their  like  gifts 
of  all  kinds,  notwithstanding  that  they  were  not  accepted. 
Her  parents  said  to  her,  ‘It  is  a pity  that  month  after 
month  and  year  after  year  should  pass  in  this  unseemly 
manner.  It  is  wearisome  to  listen  to  the  laments  of  these 
men,  and  all  to  no  purpose.  If  you  married  one,  the 
other's  love  would  cease.'  The  girl  replied,  ‘ I think  so 
too,  but  I am  sorely  perplexed  by  the  sameness  of  the 
men’s  love.  What  am  I to  do?'  Now  in  those  days 
people  lived  in  tents  on  the  bank  of  the  river  Ikuta. 
Accordingly  the  parents  sent  for  the  two  lovers  and  said 
to  them,  ‘Our  child  is  sorely  perplexed  by  the  equality 


90 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


of  the  love  shown  by  you  two  gentlemen.  But  we  intend 
to-day,  in  one  way  or  another,  to  come  to  a decision.  One 
of  you  is  a stranger  from  a distant  place ; the  other,  a 
dweller  here,  has  taken  trouble  beyond  measure.  The 
conduct  of  both  of  you  has  our  warm  sympathy.'  Both 
heard  this  with  respectful  joy.  4 Now,  what  we  pro- 
posed to  say  to  you,'  continued  the  parents,  4 was  this  : 
aim  your  arrows  at  one  of  the  water-fowl  floating  on  this 
river.  We  will  give  our  daughter  to  the  one  who  hits  it.' 
4 An  excellent  plan,'  said  they.  But  when  they  shot  at 
it,  one  hit  it  on  the  head  and  the  other  near  the  tail. 
Thereupon  the  maiden,  more  profoundly  embarrassed 
than  ever,  exclaimed  — 

‘ Weary  of  life , 

My  body  I will  cast  away 
Into  the  river  Ikuta , 

In  the  land  of  Tsu. 

Ikuta  / 1 to  me  a name  and  nothing  more  ! ’ 

44  With  these  words  she  plunged  into  the  river  which 
flowed  below  the  tent.  Amid  the  frantic  cries  of  the 
parents,  the  two  lovers  forthwith  leaped  into  the  stream 
at  the  same  place.  One  seized  her  by  the  foot,  the  otlur 
took  hold  of  her  arm,  and  both  died  along  with  her.  The 
parents,  wild  with  grief,  took  up  her  body  and  buried  it 
with  tears  and  lamentations.  The  parents  of  the  lovers 
also  came  and  built  tombs  on  each  side  of  the  sepulchre 
of  the  maiden.  But  when  the  time  of  burial  came,  the 
parents  of  the  youth  of  the  land  of  Tsu  objected,  saying  : 
4 That  a man  of  the  same  province  should  be  buried  in 
the  same  place  is  but  right  and  proper,  but  how  can  it  be 
allowed  that  a stranger  should  intrude  upon  our  soil?' 
So  the  parents  of  the  Idzumi  wooer  brought  over  in  ships 

1 Ikuta  means  “living  field.” 


YAMATO  MONOGATARI 


9i 


earth  from  the  province  of  Idzumi,  and  at  length  buried 
their  son.  The  maiden's  tomb  is  in  the  middle,  and  those 
of  her  lovers  on  each  side,  as  may  be  seen  unto  this  day." 

The  present  writer  once  made  a pious  pilgrimage  to 
these  tombs,  which  are  still  in  existence  not  far  from  the 
treaty  port  of  Kobe.  He  was  not  a little  surprised  to 
find  that  they  were  immense  tumuli,  certainly  the 
sepulchres  of  much  more  exalted  personages  than  the 
heroes  of  the  above  tale.  Not  only  so,  but  the  so-called 
lovers’  tombs  are  a mile  away  on  each  side  from  that  of 
the  fair  lady  for  whom  they  died.  On  one  of  them,  sad 
to  say,  there  was  growing  a thriving  crop  of  cabbages, 
planted  by  some  irreverent,  or  more  likely  ignorant, 
Japanese.  The  Ikuta  river  must  have  greatly  changed 
since  the  days  of  this  story.  It  now  sends  to  the  sea  a 
volume  of  water  about  equal  to  that  of  the  stream  which 
waters  the  public  gardens  at  Bournemouth,  and  where, 
needless  to  say,  death  by  drowning  is  impossible. 


C/coo 


*v 


CHAPTER  IV 

“ GENJI  MONOGATARI  ” * 

We  now  come  to  two  works  which  by  common  consent 
mark  the  highest  point  to  which  the  classical  literature 
of  Japan  attained,  namely,  the  Ge?iji  Moywgatari  and  the 
Makura  Zoshi . The  authors  were  contemporaries,  and 
both  of  them  were  women. 

The  real  name  of  the  author  of  the  Genji  Monogatari  has 
not  come  down  to  us.  She  is  known  to  history  as  Mura- 
SAKI  NO  Shikibu.  Critics  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  reason 
why  she  was  called  Murasaki,  a word  which  means 
“ purple,”  nor  does  it  greatly  matter.  Shikibu,  if  it  meant 
anything,  would  indicate  that  she  was  in  some  way  con- 
nected with  the  Board  of  Rites.  It  was,  however, 
customary  at  this  time  for  the  ladies  of  the  court  to  take 
to  themselves  fancy  official  designations  which  had  no 
particular  application.  In  her  case  the  name  was  per- 
haps suggested  by  the  circumstance  that  her  father  held 
office  in  that  Department. 

Murasaki  no  Shikibu  belonged  to  a junior  branch  of 
the  great  Fujiwara  family,  or  rather  clan,  which  held  so 
distinguished  a position  in  Japan  during  many  centuries 
of  its  history,  and  which  has  produced  such  numbers  of 

1 There  is  a translation  of  the  first  seventeen  (out  of  fifty-four)  chapters  of 
this  work  by  K.  Suyematsu.  Although  a highly  creditable  performance  under 
the  circumstances,  it  is  not  satisfactory.  The  translator  had  not  Motoori’s 
commentary  before  him,  and  the  Kogetsushd  edition  is  a very  uncertain  guide, 

92 


GENJI  MONOGATARI  93 

Mikados,  statesmen,  literati,  and  poets.  Her  father  had 
a reputation  for  scholarship,  and  others  of  her  family 
were  poets  of  some  note.  Murasaki  no  Shikibu  herself 
displayed  a love  of  learning  at  an  early  age.  She  was 
well  versed  both  in  Japanese  and  Chinese  literature,  and 
her  father  often  wished  that  such  talents  and  learning 
had  not  been  wasted  on  a girl.  Married  to  another 
Fujiwara,  she  lost  her  husband  after  a short  time,  and 
seems  to  have  then  attached  herself  to  the  Empress 
Akiko,  also  a Fujiwara  and  fond  of  learned  pursuits.  This 
would  explain  her  familiarity  with  the  ceremonies  and 
institutions  of  the  court  of  Kioto.  Her  writings  bear 
unmistakable  testimony  to  the  fact  that  she  moved  in 
the  best  circles  of  her  time  and  country. 

The  Genji  is  generally  supposed  to  have  been  finished 
in  A.D.  1004,  but  this  date  has  been  disputed,  and  it  may 
have  been  composed  a few  years  earlier.  There  is  a 
pleasing  legend  which  associates  its  composition  with  the 
Temple  of  Ishiyama  at  the  southern  end  of  Lake  Biwa, 
where  the  river  Uji  issues  from  it.  To  this  beautiful  spot, 
it  is  said,  Murasaki  no  Shikibu  retired  from  court  life  to 
devote  the  remainder  of  her  days  to  literature  and  religion. 
There  are  sceptics,  however,  Motoori  being  one,  who 
refuse  to  believe  this  story,  pointing  out,  after  the  manner 
of  their  kind,  that  it  is  irreconcilable  with  known  facts. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  very  chamber  in  the  temple 
where  the  Genji  was  written  is  shown — with  the  ink-slab 
which  the  author  used,  and  a Buddhist  Sutra  in  her  hand- 
writing, which,  if  they  do  not  satisfy  the  critic,  still  are 
sufficient  to  carry  conviction  to  the  minds  of  ordinary 
visitors  to  the  temple. 

The  Genji  Monogatari  is  a novel.  There  is  nothing 
remarkable;  it  may  be  said,  in  a woman  excelling  in  this 


94 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


branch  of  literature.  But  Murasaki  no  Shikibu  did  more 
than  merely  write  a successful  novel.  Like  Fielding 
in  England,  she  was  the  creator  in  Japan  of  this  kind  of 
fiction — the  prose  epic  of  real  life,  as  it  has  been  called. 
In  the  quality  of  her  genius,  however,  she  more  resembled 
Fielding's  great  contemporary  Richardson.  Before  her 
time  we  have  nothing  but  stories  of  no  great  length,  and 
of  a romantic  character  far  removed  from  the  realities  of 
daily  life.  The  Genji  Monogatari  is  realistic  in  the  best 
sense  of  the  word.  Here  we  see  depicted  men  and 
women,  especially  women,  as  they  are,  in  their  everyday 
lives  and  surroundings,  their  sentiments  and  passions, 
their  faults  and  weaknesses.  The  author  does  not  aim  at 
startling  or  horrifying  her  readers,  and  she  has  a whole- 
some abhorrence  for  all  that  is  sensational,  unnatural, 
monstrous,  or  improbable.  Such  a hero  as  the  nine- 
teenth-century novelist  Bakin's  Tametomo,  who  has  two 
pupils  to  his  eyes  and  one  arm  longer  than  the  other, 
and  who,  after  falling  over  a cliff  many  thousand  feet 
high,  presently  picks  himself  up  and  walks  home  several 
miles  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  would  have  seemed  to 
her  as  ridiculous  as  he  does  to  ourselves.  There  are  few 
dramatic  situations  in  the  Genjiy  and  what  little  of  mira- 
culous and  supernatural  it  contains  is  of  a kind  which 
might  well  be  believed  by  a contemporary  reader.  The 
story  flows  on  easily  from  one  scene  of  real  life  to  another, 
giving  us  a varied  and  minutely  detailed  picture  of  life 
and  society  at  Kioto  such  as  we  possess  for  no  other 
country  at  the  same  period. 

The  hero  is  the  son  of  a Mikado  by  a favourite  con- 
cubine, whose  colleagues  are  all  jealous  of  the  preference 
shown  her,  and  are  continually  annoying  her  in  a petty 
way.  She  takes  this  so  much  to  heart  that  she  falls  ill 


GENJI  MONOGATARI 


95 


and  dies.  Her  death  is  related  with  much  pathos.  Genji 
grows  up  to  be  a handsome  and  accomplished  youth  of 
a very  susceptible  disposition,  and  his  history  is  mainly 
an  account  of  his  numerous  love  affairs,  and  of  his  ulti- 
mate union  with  Murasaki,  a heroine  in  all  respects 
worthy  of  him.  It  continues  the  story  up  to  his  death 
at  the  age  of  fifty-one.  The  last  ten  books,  which  relate 
chiefly  to  one  of  Genji’s  sons,  are  by  some  considered  a 
separate  work. 

The  style  of  the  Genji  has  been  called  ornate.  The 
writer  who  applied  this  epithet  to  it  was  probably  think- 
ing of  the  courtly  honorifics  with  which  it  is  in  many 
places  burdened.  But  there  is  much  excuse  for  this. 
The  Genji  is  a novel  of  aristocratic  life.  Most  of  the 
characters  are  personages  of  rank,  in  describing  whose 
sayings  and  actions  a courtly  style  of  speech  is  indis- 
pensable. To  a Japanese  it  would  be  simply  shocking 
to  say  that  a Mikado  has  breakfast — he  augustly  deigns 
to  partake  of  the  morning  meal,  and  so  on.  The  Euro- 
pean reader  finds  this  irritating  and  tiresome  at  first,  but 
he  soon  gets  accustomed  to  it.  In  truth,  such  language 
is  in  entire  consonance  with  the  elaborate  ceremonial, 
the  imposing  but  cumbrous  costumes,  and  much  else  of 
the  rather  artificial  life  of  the  Japanese  court  of  the  time. 
Apart  from  this  the  style  of  the  Genji  is  not  more  ornate 
than  that,  let  us  say,  of  Robinson  Crusoe , and  incom- 
parably less  so  than  that  of  many  Japanese  books  of 
later  date.  It  is  free  from  any  redundance  of  descriptive 
adjectives  or  profusion  of  metaphors  such  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  associate  with  the  word  ornate. 

Others  have  objected  to  the  style  of  the  Genji  as 
wanting  in  brevity.  It  must  be  admitted  that  its  long, 
involved  sentences  contrast  strongly  with  the  direct,  con- 


96 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


cise  manner  of  the  Ise  Monogatari.  But,  as  Motoori 
points  out,  a brief  style  may  be  a bad  one,  and  lengthy 
sentences  full  of  detail  may  best  fit  the  subject.  Mura- 
saki  no  Shikibu’s  fulness  is  not  prolixity.  On  close 
examination  it  will  be  found  that  there  is  nothing  super- 
fluous in  the  abundant  details  of  her  narrative.  That  is 
her  method,  and  is  essential  to  the  effect  she  aims  at 
producing. 

The  Genji  is  not  intrinsically  a very  difficult  work,  and 
no  doubt  the  author’s  contemporaries  found  it  quite  easy 
to  understand.  But  since  then  the  language,  institu- 
tions, and  manners  and  customs  of  Japan  have  changed 
so  much  as  greatly  to  obscure  the  meaning,  not  only 
to  European  students,  but  to  the  Japanese  themselves. 
Piles  of  commentary  by  native  editors  have  been  accumu- 
lated over  it,  and  their  interpretations  are  often  so  blun- 
dering and  inadequate  that  Motoori  found  it  necessary  to 
devote  to  its  elucidation  a critical  work1  in  nine  volumes, 
mostly  taken  up  with  correcting  the  errors  of  his  prede- 
cessors. 

The  enormous  bulk  of  the  Genji  will  always  remain 
another  obstacle  to  its  just  appreciation  by  European 
readers.  It  is  in  fifty-four  books,  which  in  the  standard 
(but  not  very  satisfactory)  Kogetsusho  edition  run  to  no 
less  than  4234  pages.  The  genealogical  tree  alone  of 
the  personages  which  figure  in  it,  comprising  several 
Mikados,  a crowd  of  Princes,  Princesses,  and  Imperial 
consorts,  with  a host  of  courtiers,  occupies  eighty  pages'. 

Japanese  critics  claim  for  the  Genji  that  it  surpasses 
anything  of  the  kind  in  Chinese  literature,  and  even 
deserves  to  be  ranked  with  the  masterpieces  of  European 
fiction.  None,  however,  but  an  extreme  Japanophile 
1 The  Tama  no  Ogushi,  It  was  left  unfinished  at  his  death. 


GENJI  MONOGATARI 


97 


(the  species  is  not  altogether  unknown)  will  go  so  far  as 
to  place  Murasaki  no  Shikibu  on  a level  with  Fielding, 
Thackeray,  Victor  Hugo,  Dumas,  aind  Cervantes.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  unjust  to  dismiss  her  summarily 
with  the  late  M.  George  Bousquet  as  “ cette  ennuyeuse 
Scudery  japonaise/’  a verdict  endorsed  by  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain.  There  are  in  the  Genji  pathos,  humour,  an  abundant 
flow  of  pleasing  sentiment,  keen  observation  of  men  and 
manners,  an  appreciation  of  the  charms  of  nature,  and 
a supreme  command  of  the  resources  of  the  Japanese 
language,  which  in  her  hands  reached  its  highest  point 
of  excellence.  Though  never  melodramatic,  she  gives 
us  plenty  of  incident,  and  is  seldom  dull.  A scholar,  she 
abhorred  pedantry  and  fine  writing,  the  bane  of  so  many 
of  the  modern  novelists  of  Japan. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  here  the  opinion  of  some 
Japanese  writers,  that  the  Genji  was  written  to  inculcate 
Buddhist  doctrine,  or  the  notion  of  others,  that  the  teach- 
ing of  Confucian  morality  was  its  aim.  Nor  need  we 
trouble  ourselves  with  the  suggestion  that  it  is  a novel 
a clef  \ and  that  the  personages  are  to  be  identified  with 
real  persons  who  were  alive  at  the  time  when  it  was 
written.  As  Motoori  very  justly  observes,  all  these  ideas 
show  an  ignorance  of  the  true  object  of  novel-writing, 
which  is  to  excite  our  sympathies,  and  to  interest  and 
amuse  by  the  presentation  of  a picture  of  real  life. 

Another  subject  much  dwelt  on  by  native  critics  is  the 
morality  of  the  Genji}  some  denouncing  it,  as  it  deserves, 
while  others  strive  to  defend  what  even  from  the  Japanese 
point  of  view  is  indefensible.  Truth  to  say,  the  laxity  of 
morals  which  it  depicts  is  deplorable.  It  is  a satisfaction 
to  add  that  it  belongs  to  the  age  and  country  in  which 
the  author  lived,  and  that  her  own  private  life  is  admit- 


93  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

tedly  free  from  any  stain  of  this  kind.  Of  coarseness 
and  pruriency,  moreover,  there  is  none  in  the  Genji,  or 
indeed  in  the  literature  of  this  period  generally.  The 
language  is  almost  invariably  decent,  and  even  refined, 
and  we  hardly  ever  meet  with  a phrase  calculated  to 
bring  a blush  to  the  cheek  of  a young  person. 

It  is  difficult  to  give  much  idea  of  the  Genji  by  quota- 
tion. The  following  passages  may  serve  as  well  as  any 
others  for  this  purpose  ; but  the  writer  is  conscious  that 
here,  more  perhaps  than  anywhere  else  in  Japanese 
literature,  the  chasm  which  divides  us  in  thought,  senti- 
ment, and  language  from  the  Far  East  forms  an  insuper- 
able obstacle  to  communicating  to  a translation  the 
undoubted  charm  of  the  original. 

Genji,  aged  sixteen,  discusses  feminine  character  with  a 
young  friend : — 

“ It  was  an  evening  in  the  wet  season.  Without,  the  rain 
was  falling  drearily,  and  even  in  the  Palace  hardly  any  one 
was  to  be  seen.  In  Genji’s  quarters  there  was  an  unusual 
sense  of  stillness.  He  was  engaged  in  reading  by  the 
light  of  a lamp  when  it  occurred  to  him  to  take  out  from 
a cupboard  which  was  close  by  some  letters  written  on. 
paper  of  various  tints.  The  Chiujo  [his  friend]  was 
inordinately  eager  to  have  a look  at  them.  * There  are 
a few  of  a kind  that  I can  let  you  see/  said  Genji,  ‘ but 
there  are  others  that  are  imperfect  ; ' and  these  he 
refused  to  show  him.  1 Oh  ! but  it  is  just  those  written 
without  reserve  and  couched  in  moving  language  that  I 
like.  Commonplace  ones  don’t  count.  What  I wish  to 
see  are  letters  which  reveal  the  various  circumstances  of 
the  writers.  When  they  are  inspired  by  petulant  jealousy 
or  written  at  the  hour  of  eve — a prey  to  passionate 
longings  and  the  like — it  is  then  that  they  are  worth 


GENJI  MONOGATARI  99 

reading/  It  was  unlikely  that  any  which  demanded  the 
strictest  secrecy  should  be  left  lying  about  in  an  ordinary 
cupboard.  Such  were  no  doubt  carefully  concealed,  and 
these  were  of  the  second  order  of  intimacy.  Genji  there- 
fore, being  thus  pressed,  allowed  his  friend  to  read 
passages  from  them  here  and  there.  ‘ What  a variety  ! ' 
said  the  Chiujo,  and  began  to  guess  at  the  authors.  ‘This 
is  from  so-and-so,  is  it  not  ? — that  from  such  another  ? ' 
he  inquired.  Sometimes  he  guessed  right,  and  even  when 
he  missed  the  mark  Genji  was  much  amused  by  his  infer- 
ences and  suspicions.  But  he  said  little  and  maintained 
his  reserve,  putting  his  friend  off  with  dubious  answers. 
‘You  must  have  a collection  of  your  own/  said  Genji. 
‘Will  you  not  let  me  see  a few  of  them  ? In  that  case, 
my  cupboard  would  open  its  doors  more  cheerfully/  ‘ I 
am  sure  none  of  mine  would  be  worth  your  while  to  read/ 
replied  the  Chiujo.  ‘ I have  at  last  [he  was  aged  sixteen] 
discovered/  continued  he,  ‘ how  hard  it  is  to  find  a 
woman  of  whom  it  may  be  said,  “ Here  at  any  rate  is  the 
one.  Here  no  fault  can  be  found/'  There  are  plenty 
who  may  be  considered  fairly  tolerable,  girls  of  super- 
ficial sensibilities,  ready  with  their  pens,  and  competent 
to  give  intelligent  responses  1 upon  occasion.  But  how 
hard  it  is  to  pitch  upon  any  of  whom  you  can  say  that 
here  is  one  who  compels  your  choice.  Often  they  have 
no  thought  for  any  accomplishments  but  such  as  they 
themselves  possess,  and  depreciate  those  of  others  in  a 
most  provoking  way.  Some,  again,  there  are,  made 
much  of  by  their  parents  and  not  allowed  to  leave  their 
side,  who,  while  they  remain  within  the  lattice  which 
bounds  their  future,  may  no  doubt  make  an  impression 
on  the  hearts  of  men  who  have  had  little  opportunity  of 

1 Probably  poetical  responses  of  thirty-one  syllables  are  meant. 


oo 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


really  knowing  them.  They  may  be  young,  attractive, 
and  of  sedate  manners  ; and  so  long  as  they  are  without 
external  distractions,  they  will  naturally,  by  the  assiduous 
imitation  of  others,  gain  some  skill  in  frivolous  pastimes. 
But  their  friends  will  screen  their  defects  and  represent 
their  good  qualities  in  the  best  light.  How  is  anybody 
to  condemn  them  in  his  own  mind  without  a proof,  and 
say  to  himself,  “ That  is  not  so  ” ? Whereas  if  we  believe 
all  that  is  said  of  them,  we  are  sure  to  find  on  further 
acquaintance  that  they  fall  in  our  estimation.'  Here  the 
Chiujo  paused,  ashamed  of  his  own  precipitancy.  Genji 
smiled,  thinking  of  something  of  the  same  kind,  though 
not  absolutely  so,  in  his  own  experience,  and  said,  ' But 
surely  they  have  all  some  good  points?'  'Just  so,’ 
replied  the  Chiujo.  1 If  they  had  none,  who  would  be 
taken  in  ? Of  those  utterly  sorry  creatures  who  are 
beneath  notice,  and  of  the  superior  women  for  whose 
accomplishments  we  feel  an  unqualified  admiration,  the 
numbers  are  alike  few.  Those  born  in  a high  station  are 
made  much  of  by  their  friends,  and  their  faults  are  con- 
cealed, so  that  in  outward  appearance  they  are  naturally 
second  to  none.  In  the  middle  class,  there  is  greater 
freedom  of  expression  of  individual  feeling,  and  thus  the 
means  are  afforded  of  distinguishing  among  them.  As 
for  those  of  the  lowest  station  of  all,  they  are  quite  un- 
worthy of  our  attention.'  " 

Here  Genji  and  the  Chiujo  are  joined  by  two  other 
friends.  The  conversation  is  continued  at  considerable 
length,  and  various  types  of  womanhood  are  discussed 
with  illustrative  anecdotes  drawn  from  the  speakers' 
experience.  This  passage,  known  as  the  Shina-sadame, 
or  Critique  (of  women),  is  much  admired  by  the  Japanese, 
and  is  considered  by  critics  to  be  the  kernel  of  the  whole 


GENJI  MONOGATARI 


IOI 


work,  the  chief  idea  of  which  is  to  present  to  the  reader 
a picture  of  various  types  of  womanhood. 

Genji,  having  retired  to  a monastery  in  order  to  be 
exorcised  for  ague,  espies  in  a neighbouring  temple  a 
young  girl  who  is  living  with  her  grandmother,  a nun, 
and  who  is  destined  to  fix  his  vagrant  fancy  at  a later 
period. 

“ At  this  season  the  days  were  very  long,  and  time  passed 
slowly  ; so  under  cover  of  the  deep  evening  mist  he 
approached  the  low  hedge  of  which  he  had  been  told. 
Here  he  sent  back  all  his  attendants,  retaining  with  him 
only  Koremitsu.  Peeping  through  the  hedge,  he  could 
see  straight  before  him  the  western  front  of  the  house, 
where  there  was  a nun  performing  her  devotions  before 
a private  image  of  Buddha.  She  raised  up  the  hanging 
screen  and  made  an  offering  of  flowers.  Then  taking  her 
place  by  the  middle  pillar,  she  placed  a Sutra  on  an  arm- 
rest, and  proceeded  to  read  it  in  a voice  which  betrayed 
much  suffering.  This  nun  seemed  no  ordinary  person. 
She  was  something  over  forty  years  of  age.  Her  com- 
plexion was  fair,  and  she  had  an  air  of  distinction.  She 
was 'thin,  but  her  face  had  a puffy  appearance  from  ill 
health.  Whilst  looking  at  her,  Genji  was  struck  with  the 
beauty  of  her  hair,  which  seemed  rather  to  have  gained 
in  elegance  by  having  been  cut. 1 Two  comely  grown- 
up women  were  in  waiting  on  her. 

“ Now  there  were  some  children  playing  in  and  out  of 
the  room.  One  of  them,  who  might  be  perhaps  ten  years 
of  age,  wore  a white  silk  gown  lined  with  yellow,  and  not 
too  new.  She  had  no  resemblance  to  the  attendants  or 
to  the  rest  of  the  children,  and  her  beauty  seemed  to  give 

1 Nuns  at  this  time  did  not  shave  their  heads,  but  only  trimmed  the  hair 
short. 


8 


102  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

promise  of  a future  for  her.  Her  hair  was  tossed  in 
waves  like  an  expanded  fan,  and  her  eyes  were  red  with 
weeping.  The  nun  looked  up  when  she  saw  her  near,  and 
said,  ‘What  is  the  matter  ? Have  you  been  quarrelling 
with  some  of  the  children  ? ' As  Genji  looked  at  them, 
it  occurred  to  him  that  there  was  a resemblance,  and  that 
the  little  girl  was  probably  her  daughter.  ‘ Inuki  has  let 
go  my  sparrow  that  I had  put  under  a basket/  said  she 
dolefully.  The  waiting- woman  exclaimed,  ‘ He  is  always 
doing  thoughtless  things  like  that  and  plaguing  the  poor 
girl,  all  because  he  does  not  get  scolded  enough.  I 
wonder  where  it  has  gone  to  ? It  had  at  last  become  so 
delightful,  and  now  I’m  afraid  the  crows  have  discovered 
it.’  So  saying,  she  went  out. 

“ This  woman’s  hair  hung  down  loose  and  was  very  long. 
She  was  a pleasant-looking  woman.  The  others  called 
her  Nurse  Shonagon,  and  she  seemed  to  have  charge  of 
this  child.  ‘Come  now!  be  a good  girl,’  said  the  nun, 
‘and  don’t  do  such  naughty  things.  You  forget  that  my 
life  is  but  for  to-day  or  to-morrow,  and  you  can  think  of 
nothing  but  your  sparrow.  Haven’t  I often  told  you  that 
it  was  a sin  [to  keep  birds  in  a cage].  You  pain  me 
greatly.  Come  here,  child.’  The  little  girl  stood  forward 
with  a rueful  expression  of  face,  and  a mist  hanging 
round  her  eyebrows.  The  contour  of  her  forehead,  from 
which  the  hair  was  combed  back  in  childish  fashion,  and 
the  style  of  her  hair  itself  were  very  lovely.  ‘What  a 
charming  girl  she  will  be  when  she  is  grown  up  ! ’ thought 
Genji,  and  his  eyes  dwelt  on  her  with  interest.  She 
greatly  resembled  one  to  whom  formerly  his  whole  heart 
had  been  given,  and  at  the  thought  his  tears  began  to  fall. 
The  nun,  stroking  the  little  girl’s  head,  said,  ‘What  beau- 
tiful hair,  though  you  think  it  so  much  trouble  to  have 


GENJI  MONOGATARI 


103 


it  combed  ! I am  greatly  concerned  that  you  are  so 
frivolous.  At  your  age  some  girls  are  so  different.  When 
your  late  mother  was  married  at  the  age  of  twelve  she 
had  an  extraordinary  amount  of  good  sense.  But  now  if 
you  were  to  lose  me,  what  would  become  of  you  ? ’ And 
she  burst  out  weeping.  Genji,  at  this  sight,  was  moved 
unawares  to  sorrow  for  her.  The  little  girl,  child  as  she 
was,  looked  at  her,  and  with  downcast  eyes  bent  her  head 
to  the  ground,  so  that  her  hair  fell  loosely  forward,  showing 
a lustre  that  was  very  beautiful. 

‘ There  is  no  sky  [ weather ] to  dry  up 
The  dew  [of  my  tears ] at  leaving  behind 
The  tender  herb 

That  knows  not  where  shall  be  its  abode 
When  it  has  reached  full  growth 

“So  the  nun.  ‘True,’  said  the  other  waiting-woman 
[not  the  girl’s  nurse],  and  with  tears  answered  her — 

‘ So  long  as  the  first  blades  of  grass 
Know  not  what  will  be  their  future  when  grown  up. 
How  can  the  dew 
Think  of  becoming  dried  ? ’ ” 

This  notice  may  be  fitly  closed  by  the  following  poem, 
in  which  Motoori  in  his  old  age  expressed  his  intention  of 
returning,  if  time  permitted,  to  the  study  of  the  Genji: — 

“ So  dearly  do  I love  them, 

Again  I would  come  to  see 

The  violets  on  the  plains  of  spring 

Which  I left  ungathered — 

Though  to-day  I may  not  pluck  them .” 

The  author  of  the  Genji  Monogatari  wrote  a diary 
called  Murasaki  ?io  Shikibu  Nikki , which  has  come  down 
to  us.  It  is  not  without  merit,  but  its  fame  has  been 
wholly  eclipsed  by  that  of  her  greater  work. 


CHAPTER  V 


“MAKURA  ZOSHI” 

With  the  Gcnji  Monogalari  the  Japanese  associate  the 
Makura  Zoshi  or  “ Pillow  Sketches  ” of  Sei  Shonagon 
as  of  equal  excellence,  although  different  in  form  and 
character.  The  author,  like  Murasaki  no  Shikibu,  was 
a lady  of  high  rank,  her  father,  who  was  a poet  of  some 
fame,  being  descended  from  the  Prince  who  compiled 
the  Nihongi.  Her  learning  and  talents  obtained  for  her 
the  honour  of  being  appointed  Lady-in-waiting  to  the 
Empress.  On  the  death  of  the  latter  in  a.d.  iooo,  she 
retired  from  the  world,  some  say  to  a convent,  where  she 
received  to  the  last  marks  of  the  esteem  of  her  former 
master,  the  Mikado  Ichigo.  Others,  however,  describe 
her  condition  as  one  of  great  poverty  and  misery. 

The  title  “ Pillow  Sketches"  is  explained  by  some  to 
mean  that  she  kept  the  manuscript  by  her  pillow  and 
jotted  down  her  thoughts  and  observations  when  going 
to  bed  and  when  getting  up  in  the  morning.  It  is  more 
probable,  however,  that  it  is  an  allusion  to  an  anecdote 
which  she  herself  relates  in  a postscript : — 

It  has  become  too  dark  for  literary  work,  and  my  pen 
is  worn  out.  I will  bring  these  sketches  to  a close.  They 
are  a record  of  that  which  I have  seen  with  my  eyes  and 
felt  in  my  heart,  not  written  that  others  might  read  them, 
but  put  together  to  solace  the  loneliness  of  my  home  life. 

104 


MAICURA  ZOSHI 


105 


When  I think  how  I tried  to  keep  them  secret,  conscious 
of  vulgar  and  exaggerated  remarks  which  have  escaped 
me,  the  tears  flow  uncontrollably. 

“ One  day  when  I was  in  attendance  on  the  Empress, 
she  showed  me  some  paper  which  had  been  given  her  by 
the  Naidaijin.  ‘ What  is  to  be  written  on  this?'  said 
her  Majesty.  ‘The  Mikado  has  had  something  they  call 
History  written  on  his.'  ‘ It  will  do  nicely  for  pillows,'  I 
replied.  ‘ Then  take  it,’  said  she.  So  I tried  to  use  up 
this  immense  supply  by  writing  down  strange  matters  of 
all  kinds  without  any  connection  or  sequence.” 

The  Makura  Zoshi  is  the  first  example  of  a style  of 
writing  which  afterwards  became  popular  in  Japan  under 
the  name  of  Zuihitsu  or  “ following  the  pen.”  There  is 
no  sort  of  arrangement.  The  author  sets  down  upon  the 
spur  of  the  moment  anything  which  occurs  to  her. 
Stories,  descriptive  enumerations  of  dismal,  incongruous, 
abominable  and  dreary  things,  lists  of  flowers,  mountains, 
rivers,  sketches  of  social  and  domestic  life,  thoughts 
suggested  by  the  contemplation  of  nature,  and  much 
more  form  her  farrago  libelli . 

Unlike  the  author  of  the  Genji , who  loses  herself  in  the 
characters  which  she  describes,  the  personality  of  Sei 
Shonagon  comes  out  distinctly  in  everything  which  she  has 
written.  The  clever,  somewhat  cynical,  cultured  woman 
of  the  world  is  always  present  to  the  reader.  Her  tastes 
and  predilections  are  made  known  at  considerable  length, 
and  she  does  not  mind  being  her  own  Boswell,  not 
failing  to  record  in  her  “ Pillow  Sketches  ” any  apt 
quotation  or  neat  retort  which  she  may  have  made. 
Subsequent  writers  do  not  acquit  her,  as  they  do 
Murasaki  no  Shikibu,  of  a personal  share  in  the  amorous 
intrigues  which  formed  so  large  a part  of  life  among  the 


io6 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


upper  classes  of  Kioto  at  this  period.  It  may  be  readily 
gathered  from  her  writings  that  she  was  no  stranger  to 

“ The  politic  arts 
To  take  and  keep  metis  hearts  ; 

The  letters , embassies , and  spies , 

The  frowns , and  smiles , and flatteries , 

77/^  quarrels , tears , and  perjuries. 

Numberless , nameless  mysteries 

of  Cowley’s  poem. 

The  following  extracts  will  give  some  idea  of  the 
general  character  of  the  work.  The  four  seasons  form 
the  subject  of  the  opening  chapter  : — 

“ In  spring/’  the  author  says,  “ I love  to  watch  the 
dawn  grow  gradually  whiter  and  whiter,  till  a faint  rosy 
tinge  crowns  the  mountain’s  crest,  while  slender  streaks 
of  purple  cloud  extend  themselves  above.” 

“ In  summer,  I love  the  night,  not  only  when  the 
moon  is  shining,  but  the  dark  too,  when  the  fireflies  cross 
each  other’s  paths  in  their  flight,  or  when  the  rain  is 
falling.” 

“ In  autumn,  it  is  the  beauty  of  the  evening  which 
most  deeply  moves  me,  as  I watch  the  crows  seeking 
their  roosting-place  in  twos  and  threes  and  fours,  while 
the  setting  sun  sends  forth  his  beams  gorgeously  as  he 
draws  near  the  mountain’s  rim.  Still  more  is  it  delightful 
to  see  the  lines  of  wild  geese  pass,  looking  exceeding 
small  in  the  distance.  And  when  the  sun  has  quite  gone 
down,  how  moving  it  is  to  hear  the  chirruping  of  insects 
or  the  sighing  of  the  wind  ! ” 

“ In  winter,  how  unspeakably  beautiful  is  the  snow  ! 
But  I also  love  the  dazzling  whiteness  of  the  hoar-frost, 
and  the  intense  cold  even  at  other  times.  Then  it  is 
meet  quickly  to  fetch  charcoal  and  kindle  fires.  And  let 


MAKURA  ZOSHI 


107 


not  the  gentle  warmth  of  noon  persuade  us  to  allow  the 
embers  of  the  hearth  or  of  the  brazier  to  become  a white 
heap  of  ashes  ! ” 

The  Exorcist 

“ What  a pity  it  is  to  make  a priest  of  a child  whom  one 
loves  ! How  painful  it  must  be  to  have  to  regard  as  so 
many  bits  of  stick  the  things  which  are  in  life  the  most 
desirable  ! Priests  have  to  go  to  bed  after  a meal  of 
wretched  fasting  diet,  and  are  blamed  if,  when  young, 
they  so  much  as  take  a sly  peep  into  places  where  there 
are  attractive  girls.  The  life  of  an  exorcist  priest  is 
particularly  hard.  What  dreadful  experiences  he  must 
have  on  his  pilgrimages  to  Mitake,  Kumano,  and  all  the 
other  sacred  monasteries  ! Even  after  he  has  gained  a 
fame  for  unction  and  is  sent  for  on  all  occasions,  his  very 
reputation  is  a bar  to  his  repose.  What  a labour  it  must 
be  to  drive  out  the  evil  spirit  from  the  sick  man  he  is  in 
attendance  on  ! And  yet  if  he  dozes  a little  out  of  sheer 
exhaustion,  he  is  promptly  reprimanded,  and  told  that 
he  does  nothing  but  sleep.  How  embarrassed  he  must 
feel ! ” 

The  exorcist  is  much  sympathised  with  by  the  author. 
In  another  place  she  says — 

“When  the  exorcist  is  summoned  to  drive  out  an  evil 
spirit,  he  puts  on  a consequential  air  as  he  distributes  his 
maces  and  bells  to  those  who  are  present.  Then  he 
drones  out  his  chant  in  tones  like  the  note  of  the  cicada. 
But'suppose  that  the  demon  is  not  a whit  disturbed,  and 
that  the  spells  are  of  no  avail  ? The  whole  household,  who 
had  joined  in  the  prayers,  begin  to  wonder.  Still  he  goes 
on  hour  after  hour  till  he  is  utterly  weary.  At  last  he 
sees  that  it  is  useless,  so  he  lets  them  get  up  and  takes 


io8 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


back  his  maces  and  bells  with  a confession  of  failure. 
How  he  ruffles  back  his  hair  and  scratches  his  head  as 
with  many  a yawn  he  lays  himself  down  to  sleep  ! " 

Visit  of  the  Empress  to  a Court  Noble 

"When  the  Empress  visited  the  Daishin  Narimasa, 
her  carriage  went  in  by  the  East  Gate,  which  is  wide 
with  four  pillars.  Her  women,  however,  preferred  to 
have  their  carriages  go  round  to  the  North  Gate,  where 
there  were  no  guards.  Some  who  had  not  done  up  their 
hair  thought  to  themselves  with  some  disdain,  " Oh,  we 
shall  drive  up  to  the  door,  so  we  need  not  be  very 
particular.”  But  the  palm-leaf-covered  carriages  stuck 
fast  in  the  narrow  portal,  and  there  was  no  possibility  of 
getting  in.  So  the  usual  path  of  matting  was  laid,  and 
we  were  told  to  get  down,  to  our  no  small  annoyance 
and  indignation.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it.  It  was 
provoking  to  see  the  courtiers  and  servants  standing 
together  in  the  guard-room  to  watch  us  pass.  When 
we  came  before  her  Majesty,  and  told  her  what  had 
happened,  she  only  laughed  at  us,  saying,  1 Is  there 
nobody  looking  at  you  now  ? How  can  you  be  so 
untidy  ?’  * Yes/  replied  I,  1 but  everybody  here  is  used 

to  us,  and  would  be  greatly  surprised  if  we  took  special 
pains  about  our  appearance.  To  think  that  a mansion 
like  this  should  have  a gate  too  small  to  admit  a car- 
riage ! I shall  have  a good  laugh  at  the  Daishin 
when  I meet  him/  Presently  he  came  in  bringing  the 
Empress’s  ink-stone  and  writing  materials.  1 This  is  too 
bad  of  you/  said  I.  1 How  can  you  live  in  a house  with 
such  a narrow  gate  ? ’ To  which  he  replied  with  a smile, 
that  his  house  was  on  a scale  suited  to  his  station.  1 And 


MAKURA  ZOSHI 


09 


yet/  said  I,  ‘ I have  heard  of  a man  who  had  his  gate, 
though  nothing  more,  made  too  large  for  his  personal 
requirements.'  ‘ Well,  to  be  sure,'  said  the  Daishin, 
with  astonishment,  ‘you  refer,  of  course,  to  U Teikoku 
[a  Chinese  worthy].  Who  would  have  thought  that 
any  one  but  a venerable  pundit  knew  aught  of  that  ? I 
myself  have  occasionally  strayed  into  the  paths  of  learn- 
ing, and  fully  comprehend  your  allusion.'  ‘ Indeed, 
then,'  returned  I,  ‘ your  paths  are  none  of  the  most 
sensible.  There  was  a nice  disturbance,  I can  tell  you, 
when  we  found  ourselves  entrapped  into  walking  along 
your  matted  paths.'  ‘ I fear  you  must  have  been  incom- 
moded,' he  replied.  ‘ And  it  was  raining,  too.  But  I 
must  attend  the  Empress.’  Saying  which,  he  made  his 
exit. 

“‘What  was  it  put  Narimasa  out  so  much?'  the 
Empress  inquired  of  me  later.  ‘ Oh,  nothing,'  I said  ; 
‘ I was  only  telling  him  of  our  misadventure  at  his 
gate.’ 


Domestic  Scene  in  the  Mikado’s  Palace 

% 

“On  the  sliding  doors  of  the  northern  front  of  the 
Mikado's  private  apartments  there  are  painted  fearful 
pictures  of  creatures  that  live  in  the  wild  ocean,  some 
with  long  arms,  others  with  long  legs.  When  the  doors 
of  the  ante-chamber  are  open  we  can  always  see  them. 
One  day  towards  noon,  while  we  were  laughing  and 
talking  about  them,  saying  what  hideous  things  they 
are,  and  were  engaged  in  setting  great  flower-pots  of 
green  porcelain 1 by  the  balustrade  of  the  verandah,  and 
filling  them  with  an  abundance  of  the  most  delightful 

1 Probably  of  the  kind  now  known  to  connoisseurs  as  Seiji. 


I 10 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


cherry  branches  five  feet  long,  so  that  the  blossoms  over- 
flowed to  the  foot  of  the  railing,  his  Excellency  the 
Dainagon  [the  Empress’s  brother]  approached.  He  had 
on  a cherry-coloured  tunic,  enough  worn  to  have  lost  its 
stiffness,  and  dark  purple  trousers.  His  white  under- 
clothing, showing  at  the  neck,  displayed  a gay  pattern  of 
a deep  crimson  hue.  As  the  Mikado  was  then  with  the 
Empress,  he  seated  himself  on  the  narrow  platform 
before  the  door  and  made  some  report  to  him  on  official 
matters. 

“The  waiting-women,  with  their  cherry-coloured  sleeve- 
less jackets  hanging  down  loosely  by  their  sides,  some 
dressed  in  wistaria  [purple],  some  in  kerria  [yellow], 
and  all  manner  of  lovely  colours,  showed  out  from  the 
screen  of  the  small  hatch.  Just  then  dinner  was  served 
in  the  Imperial  apartments.  We  could  hear  the  tramp- 
ling of  the  attendants'  feet,  and  the  cry  1 Less  noise’ 
from  one  of  the  chamberlains.  The  serene  aspect  of 
the  weather  was  exceedingly^agreeable.  When  the  last 
dishes  had  been  served,  a butler  came  and  announced 
dinner.  The  Mikado  went  away  by  the  middle  door, 
attended  by  his  Excellency  the  Dainagon,  who  subse- 
quently returned  to  his  former  place  beside  the  flowers. 
The  Empress  then  pushed  aside  the  curtain,  and  came 
forward  as  far  as  the  threshold  to  greet  him.  He  re- 
marked on  the  beauty  of  the  surroundings  and  the  good 
deportment  of  the  servants,  and  ended  by  quoting  the 
line  of  poetry  which  says — 

‘ The  days  and  months  roll  on , 

But  the  Mount  of  Mimoro  remains  for  evert 

il  I was  deeply  impressed,  and  wished  in  my  heart  that 
so  it  might  indeed  continue  for  a thousand  years. 


MAKURA  ZOSHI 


1 1 1 


The  Attack  of  the  Dog  Okinamaro  upon  the  Cat 
Miyobu  no  Otodo 

“The  august  Cat-in-waiting  on  the  Mikado  was  a very 
delightful  animal,  and  a great  favourite  with  his  Majesty, 
who  conferred  on  her  the  fifth  rank  of  nobility  and  the 
title  of  Miyobu  no  Otodo,  or  Chief  Superintendent  of 
the  Female  Attendants  of  the  Palace.  One  day  she  had 
gone  out  on  to  the  bridge  between  two  of  the  buildings 
of  the  Palace,  when  the  nurse  in  charge  of  her  called 
out,  ‘ How  improper  ! Come  in  at  once.’  But  the  cat 
paid  no  attention,  and  went  on  basking  drowsily  in  the 
sun.  So  in  order  to  frighten  her,  1 Where  is  Okina- 
maro V cried  the  nurse.  ‘Okinamaro  ! bite  Miyobu  no 
Otodo.’  The  foolish  dog,  thinking  she  was  in  earnest, 
flew  at  the  cat,  who  in  her  fright  and  consternation  took 
refuge  behind  the  screen  of  the  breakfast-room  where 
his  Majesty  then  was.  The  Mikado  was  greatly  shocked 
and  agitated.  He  took  the  cat  into  his  august  bosom, 
and  summoning  the  chamberlain  Tadataka,  gave  orders 
that  Okinamaro  should  have  a good  thrashing  and  be 
banished  to  Dog  Island  at  once.  The  attendants  gave 
chase  to  Okinamaro  amid  great  confusion.  They  soon 
caught  him,  and  sent  him  away  as  they  were  ordered. 

“ Alas,  poor  dog  ! He  used  to  swagger  about  so  much 
at  his  ease.  When  on  the  third  day  of  the  third  month 
he  was  led  along  with  a willow  wreath  upon  his  head, 
and  adorned  with  flowers  of  peach  and  cherry,  did  he 
ever  think  that  it  would  come  to  this  ? At  meal  times  he 
used  always  to  be  in  attendance,  and  now,  when  three 
or  four  days  passed  without  him,  we  missed  him  greatly. 
One  day  at  noon  there  was  a tremendous  noise  of  a 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


clog's  howling.  All  the  other  dogs  rushed  to  the  spot  in 
excitement  to  see  what  made  him  go  on  yelping  so. 
Meanwhile  a scavenger-woman  of  the  Palace  came  to  us 
running.  'Oh!  how  terrible!'  exclaimed  she.  'Two 
of  the  chamberlains  are  beating  a dog  till  he  is  nearly 
dead.  They  say  they  are  chastising  him  for  having  come 
back  after  he  was  banished.'  My  heart  told  me  that 
it  was  Okinamaro  who  was  being  beaten  by  Tadataka 
and  Sanefusa.  I was  just  sending  to  stop  them  when  the 
howling  ceased.  I was  then  told  that  he  was  dead,  and 
that  his  body  had  been  flung  away  outside  the  gate.  At 
sundown,  when  we  were  all  pitying  his  fate,  a wretched- 
looking  dog,  trembling  all  over,  walked  in,  his  body 
fearfully  and  amazingly  swollen.  'Can  this  be  Okina- 
maro?' we  said.  'No  such  dog  has  been  seen  about 
here  recently.'  We  called  to  him  by  his  name,  but  he 
took  no  notice.  Some  said  it  was  he,  others  that  it  was 
not.  The  Empress  sent  for  a lady  who  knew  him  well. 
'Is  this  Okinamaro?'  she  said,  pointing  to  him.  'It  is 
like  him,'  replied  she,  ' but  is  too  utterly  loathsome  to 
be  our  dog.  Besides,  when  one  called  to  Okinamaro  by 
name,  he  came  joyfully ; but  this  animal  won’t  come. 
It  cannot  be  Okinamaro.  And  then  Okinamaro  was 
killed  and  his  body  thrown  away.  He  can't  possibly  be 
alive  after  the  beating  he  got  from  the  two  chamberlains.' 
When  it  got  dark  he  was  offered  something  to  eat,  but 
he  refused  it,  so  we  made  up  our  minds  that  it  could  not 
be  our  friend.  The  next  morning  when  I went  to  attend 
the  Empress  at  her  toilet,  and  had  served  her  wash-hand 
basin  and  her  mirror,  a dog  came  to  the  foot  of  one  of 
the  pillars.  ' Alas  ! ' cried  the  Empress,  ' what  a terrible 
beating  Okinamaro  seems  to  have  got  last  night.  I am 
so  sorry  that  he  is  dead.  I suppose  he  now  looks  some- 


MAKURA  ZO SHI 


1 1 3 

thing  like  that  animal.  He  must  have  suffered  miserably.' 
At  this  moment  the  dog  lying  by  the  pillar  trembled  and 
shook,  and  poured  forth  a flood  of  tears,  to  our  intense 
amazement.  This  was  Okinamaro  after  all,  and  his 
refusal  on  the  previous  day  to  come  when  he  was  called 
was  for  fear  of  betraying  himself.  The  Empress  was 
touched  and  delighted  beyond  measure.  She  put  down 
her  mirror  and  called  to  him,  1 Okinamaro  ! ’ The  dog 
laid  himself  flat  on  the  ground  and  yelped  loudly,  at 
which  the  Empress  was  greatly  amused.  Everybody 
gathered  round,  and  there  was  much  talking  and  laugh- 
ing. The  Mikado  himself,  when  he  heard  of  it,  came 
in,  and  smilingly  expressed  his  amazement  at  the  good 
sense  shown  by  a dog." 

The  reader  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  Okinamaro's 
sentence  of  banishment  was  reversed ; he  was  well 
treated,  and  in  a short  time  was  his  old  self  again. 

But  the  author  was  not  always  so  tender-hearted 
towards  dogs.  Among  “ Detestable  Things"  she  enume- 
rates— 

A dog  who  barks  in  recognition  of  your  lover  when 
'he  comes  to  pay  you  a clandestine  visit — that  dog  should 
be  killed. 

A few  more  of  her  enumerations  may  be  added. 

Dreary  Things. 

A nursery  where  the  child  has  died. 

A brazier  with  the  fire  gone  out. 

A coachman  who  is  hated  by  his  ox. 

The  birth  of  a succession  of  female  children  in  the 
house  of  a learned  scholar. 

A letter  from  ones  country  home  with  no  news  in  it. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


114 

Detestable  Things. 

Of  these  the  author  has  a long  list,  of  which  the 
following  are  a few  : — 

A visitor  who  tells  a long  story  when  you  are  in  a 
hurry.  If  he  is  a person  you  are  intimate  with,  you  can 
pack  him  off,  saying  that  you  will  hear  it  another  time. 
But  those  whom  you  cannot  treat  in  this  way  are  very 
detestable. 

An  exorcist  who,  when  sent  for  in  a case  of  sudden 
illness,  recites  his  charms  as  if  he  were  half  asleep. 

Babies  that  cry  or  dogs  that  bark  when  you  want  to 
listen. 

The  snoring  of  a man  whom  you  are  trying  to  con- 
ceal, and  who  has  gone  to  sleep  in  a place  where  he  has 
no  business. 

People  who  ride  in  a creaking  carriage.  Such  people 
must  be  deaf,  and  are  very  detestable.  When  you  ride 
in  such  a carriage  yourself  it  is  the  owner  who  is  de- 
testable. 

People  who  interrupt  your  stories  to  show  off  their 
own  cleverness.  All  interrupters,  young  or  old,  are  very 
detestable. 

People  who,  when  you  are  telling  a story,  break  in 
with,  “Oh,  I know/'  and  give  quite  a different  version 
from  your  own. 

Either  at  home  or  in  the  palace  to  be  roused  up  to 
receive  an  unwelcome  visitor,  in  order  to  avoid  whom 
you  have  been  pretending  to  be  asleep. 

While  on  friendly  terms  with  a man,  to  hear  him  sound 
the  praises  of  a woman  whom  he  has  known.  This  is 
detestable  even  when  some  time  has  elapsed,  much  more 
so  if  he  is  still  acquainted  with  her. 


MAKURA  ZOSHI 


15 


People  who  mumble  a prayer  when  they  sneeze. 

N.B. — Loud  sneezing  is  detestable,  except  in  the  case 
of  the  gentlemen  of  the  house. 

Fleas  are  very  detestable,  especially  when  they  get 
under  your  clothing  and  jump  about. 

As  a contrast  to  “ Detestable  Things/'  a few  “ Things 
which  give  one  a Thrill  ''  may  be  added  : — 

To  see  sparrows  feeding  their  young. 

To  pass  by  where  infants  are  playing. 

To  find  that  your  Chinese  (metal)  mirror  is  beginning 
to  get  dim. 

To  be  asked  the  way  by  a handsome  man  who  stops 
his  carriage  for  the  purpose. 

Among  “ Things  which  Excite  Regrets  for  the  Past,” 
Sei  Shonagon  enumerates  : — 

Withered  hollyhocks.  (Reminding  one  of  the  festivals 
they  have  been  used  for.) 

On  a wet  day  to  turn  over  the  letters  of  a person  once 
loved  by  us. 

Last  year's  fans.  (No  doubt  with  sentimental  Tanka 
written  on  them.) 

Bright  moonlight  nights. 

Here  are  a few  “ Cheerful  Things''  : — 

Coming  home  from  an  excursion  with  the  carriages 
full  to  overflowing,  to  have  lots  of  footmen  who  make 
the  oxen  go  and  the  carriages  speed  along. 

A river  boat  going  down  stream. 

Teeth  nicely  blackened. 

To  hear  a well-voiced  professor  of  magic  recite  his 
purification  service  on  a river  bank. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


1 16 

A drink  of  water  when  awake  during  the  night. 

When  in  a dull  mood,  to  have  a visitor  neither  so  inti- 
mate as  to  be  uninteresting,  nor  too  great  a stranger  to 
be  unreserved,  who  will  tell  us  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world — things  pleasant  or  odious  or  strange,  now  touch- 
ing on  this,  now  on  that,  private  matters  or  public — in 
just  sufficient  detail  not  to  be  tedious.  This  is  very 
agreeable. 

Here  follow  the  “points”  of  carriage-oxen,  horses, 
coachmen  (who.  should  be  big  men,  of  a ruddy  counte- 
nance, and  a consequential  demeanour),  footmen,  pages, 
cats,  and  preachers.  The  last  subject  is  treated  at  some 
length. 

“A  preacher,”  she  says,  “ought  to  be  a good-looking 
man.  It  is  then  easier  to  keep  your  eyes  fixed  on  his 
face,  without  which  it  is  impossible  to  benefit  by  the 
discourse.  Otherwise  the  eyes  wander  and  you  forget  to 
listen.  Ugly  preachers  have  therefore  a grave  respon- 
sibility. But  no  more  of  this  ! ” She  adds,  however, 
“ If  preachers  were  of  a more  suitable  age  I should 
have  pleasure  in  giving  a more  favourable  judgment. 
As  matters  actually  stand,  their  sins  are  too  fearful  to 
think  of.” 

If  any  apology  is  needed  for  the  length  of  these 
extracts,  it  may  be  pleaded  that  they  represent  that 
which  is  best  and  at  the  same  time  most  quotable  in 
Japanese  literature.  They  are  taken  almost  exclusively 
from  the  first  two  of  the  twelve  volumes  (646  pp.) 
of  which  this  entertaining  miscellany  consists.  It  is 
hard  to  realise  that  it  was  written  in  Japan  nine  hun- 
dred years  ago.  If  we  compare  it  with  anything  that 
Europe  had  to  show  at  this  period,  it  must  \>e  admitted 


MAKURA  ZOSHI 


ii  7 

i 

that  it  is  indeed  a remarkable  work.  What  a revelation 
it  would  be  if  we  had  the  court  life  of  Alfred’s  or 
Canute’s  reign  depicted  to  us  in  a similar  way. 

Both  the  Genji  Monogatari  and  the  Makura  Zoshi  are 
only  imperfectly  intelligible  even  to  educated  Japanese, 
and  they  are  little  read  at  the  present  day.  This  is  to 
be  regretted,  as  modern  writers  would  derive  much 
benefit  from  making  these  old  masterpieces  their  study 
and  example. 


9 


CHAPTER  VI 


SOME  MINOR  WORKS 

The  author  of  the  Sagoromo  Monogatari  was  a court 
official  named  Daini  no  Sammi,  the  daughter  of  Murasaki 
no  Shikibu.  Her  work,  a love-story  of  considerable 
length,  is  an  obvious  imitation  of  the  Genji  Monogatariy 
but  much  inferior  both  in  style  and  matter.  It  is  be- 
lieved to  have  been  written  about  A.D.  1040. 

The  Sarashina  Nikki , by  a daughter  of  Sugawara  no 
Takasuye,  a descendant  in  the  sixth  generation  of  the 
famous  statesman  Sugawara  no  Michizane,  was  com- 
pleted in  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Go  Rei-zei  (1046- 
1068).  It  is  the  record  of  a journey  from  Shimosa  to 
Kioto  by  the  Tokaido  in  1021,  and  of  a second  journey 
from  Kioto  to  Sarashina,  in  the  province  of  Shinano, 
some  years  later.  It  is  written  in  a vein  of  melancholy 
sentiment,  and  is  plentifully  adorned  with  doleful  Tanka. 

Nothing  is  known  as  to  the  date  and  authorship  of 
the  Torikayebaya  Monogatari . It  is  believed  to  have 
been  written  subsequently  to  the  Sagoromoy  and  would 
therefore  belong  to  the  middle  or  end  of  the  eleventh 
century.  The  Torikayebaya  Monogatari  is  a story  of  the 
difficulties  experienced  by  a nobleman  in  the  education 
of  his  two  children,  a boy  and  a girl.  The  boy  is  fond  of 
feminine  pursuits  and  amusements,  and  the  girl  just  the 
reverse,  much  to  the  annoyance  of  their  father,  who  used 


UJI  MONOGATARI  119 

frequently  to  exclaim,  “ Torikayebaya  ! ” that  is,  “ Oh  ! 
if  I could  only  exchange  them."  1 All  he  can  do  is  to 
have  the  boy  dressed  in  girl’s  clothes  and  treated  accord- 
ingly, while  the  girl  is  brought  up  as  a boy.  The  results 
are  unsatisfactory  from  a moral  point  of  view. 

The  author  of  the  collection  of  stories  entitled  Uji 
Monogatari  was  a court  noble  named  Minamoto  no 
Takakuni,  better  known  as  Uji  Dainagon,  from  his  place 
of  residence  and  rank.  He  died  A.D.  1077,  at  an  advanced 
age.  Being  a fat  man,  and  greatly  disliking  the  hot 
weather,  he  used  to  retire  for  the  summer  season  to  Uji, 
a village  not  far  from  Kioto,  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
which  flows  out  of  Lake  Biwa.  Here  he  built  a little 
tea-house  on  the  roadside  near  his  country-seat,  where 
tea  was  offered  to  the  passers-by.  They  were  then  in- 
vited to  tell  stories,  which  the  Dainagon,  sitting  behind 
a screen,  took  down  from  their  mouths.  Most  of  the 
stories  so  collected  are  obviously  fictitious  ; but,  true 
or  false,  they  have  a special  interest,  inasmuch  as  they 
present  a fuller  and  livelier  picture  of  the  lives  and 
ideas  of  the  middle  and  lower  classes  than  most  other 
works  of  this  period. 

As  might  be  expected  from  the  manner  of  its  com- 
pilation, the  Uji  Monogatari  contains  a large  element  of 
folk-lore.  The  style  is  easy  and  unpretentious.  Thirty  of 
the  sixty  thin  volumes  of  which  it  consists  are  assigned 
to  Japanese  stories,  the  remainder  containing  tales  of 
Chinese  or  Indian  origin.  Probably  not  all  of  these  were 
collected  in  the  manner  above  described,  and  a certain 

1 The  reader  may  think  that  this  is  a great  deal  to  express  by  the  one  word, 
“ Tori-kaye-ba-ya  ! ” It  is  literally  “ Take-change^oh  ! ” Note  the  absence  of 
personal  pronouns,  to  the  use  of  which  the  genius  of  the  Japanese  language  is 
averse. 


120  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

proportion,  it  is  believed,  have  been  added  by  later 
editors. 

The  following  outlines  of  a few  may  give  some  idea  of 
the  general  character  of  this  collection  : — 

A painter  named  Kawanari  has  an  intimate  friend,  an 
architect  and  engineer  called  Hida  no  Takumi.  The 
latter,  having  built  a small  square  pavilion,  invites  his 
friend  to  enter  it.  The  painter  approaches  the  south 
door,  when  by  some  mechanical  contrivance  it  shuts  in 
his  face.  When  he  tries  to  go  in  by  the  west  door,  it 
closes  and  the  north  door  opens.  And  so  on.  In 
revenge  for  the  practical  joke  thus  played  on  him, 
Kawanari  paints  on  a screen  the  picture  of  a corpse  so 
loathsome  and  repulsive,  that  when  Hida  no  Takumi  is 
made  to  approach  it  unawares  he  starts  back  in  horror 
and  rushes  out  into  the  garden. 

A Buddhist  monk,  a renowned  player  of  Go,  is  invited 
to  visit  a mysterious  lady.  With  a screen  interposed 
between  them,  they  play  a game  which  ends  in  the  total 
massacre  of  the  monk’s  men.  The  lady  is  never  heard 
of  again,  and  is  presumed  to  have  been  a supernatural 
being. 

A professor  of  magic,  by  some  mistake  in  his  cere- 
monies, excites  the  wrath  of  the  infernal  demons.  They 
pursue  him.  He  gets  off  his  horse  and  lets  it  go  home 
by  itself,  while  he  hides  among  the  sheaves  in  a rice-field 
by  the  way.  The  demons  follow  the  tracks  of  the  horse's 
feet,  and  the  magician  escapes,  having  learnt  from  the 
conversation  of  his  pursuers  as  they  pass  his  hiding- 
place  how  to  circumvent  them  when  they  renew  their 
attack  upon  him. 

A professor  of  magic  goes  to  perform  a ceremony  of 
purification  from  evil  influences.  His  little  boy,  who 


UJI  MONOGATARI 


I 21 


accompanies  him,  by  an  inward  gift  is  able  to  see  a 
number  of  devils,  invisible  to  the  ordinary  eye,  carrying 
away  the  offerings  of  food  made  to  them.  He  afterwards 
becomes  a great  magician. 

A guitar,  a valued  heirloom  of  the  Mikado,  disappears 
mysteriously.  One  of  the  courtiers  who  is  a great 
musician  traces  it  by  its  sound,  and  finds  that  it  has  been 
purloined  by  a devil.  On  its  being  explained  to  the 
devil  that  the  guitar  is  a much-prized  possession  of  the 
Mikado,  he  at  once  returns  it. 

A young  woman  who  is  urged  by  her  parents  to  take 
a second  husband,  fortifies  her  refusal  to  do  so  by  the 
example  of  a swallow  which  had  built  its  nest  in  their 
house,  and  whose  mate  had  been  taken  from  it.  It  goes 
away  in  the  autumn,  and  when  it  comes  back  the  follow- 
ing summer  it  is  still  alone. 

Among  other  fictitious  Monogatari  which  have  come 
down  to  us  from  this  period,  there  may  be  mentioned 
the  Idzunti  Shikibu  Monogatari , the  Ima  Monogatari , 
the  Tsutsumi  Chiiuiagon  Monogatari,  the  Akiyo  no  Naga- 
’ monogatari,  and  the  Mcttsuho  Monogatari , which,  although 
all  useful  for  the  study  of  the  state  of  society  at  this  time, 
do  not  present  any  special  features  of  literary  interest. 
Of  many  others  the  names  only  have  reached  us. 


CHAPTER  VII 


“ YEIGWA  MONOGATARI  ” AND  « O-KAGAMI ” 

It  was  inevitable  that  the  Japanese  language,  which  had 
now  reached  its  highest  degree  of  perfection  as  an  instru- 
ment for  the  expression  of  thought,  should,  sooner  or 
later,  be  applied  to  some  more  serious  purpose  than  the 
writing  of  poetry,  stories,  diaries,  and  other  light  literature. 
The  Yeigwa  Monogatari  is  notable  as  the  first  instance  of 
its  being  used  for  history.  The  authorship  of  this  work 
is  unknown.  A not  very  trustworthy  tradition  ascribes  it 
to  a celebrated  poetess  of  this  period  named  Akazome 
Yemon,  but  as  it  mentions  events  which  occurred  after 
her  death,  it  cannot  all  be  from  her  pen.  She  may, 
however,  have  left  materials  which  were  incorporated 
into  the  work  of  a subsequent  writer.  The  date  of  its 
composition  is  also  uncertain.  It  must  be  near  the  end 
of  the  eleventh  century. 

The  Yeigwa  Monogatari  consists  of  forty  books, 

which  cover  a period  of  about  two  centuries  of  Japanese 

history,  ending  with  A.D.  1088.  It  is,  however,  not  so 

much  the  general  history  of  the  country  during  this 

time  as  of  the  glorious  rule  ( Yeigwa  Monogatari  means 

“A  Tale  of  Glory")  of  Fujiwara  no  Michinaga,  who 

was  Chief  Minister  in  the  three  reigns  of  Ichijo, 

Sanjo,  and  Go  Ichijo,  and  who  died  A.D.  1027.  The 

latter  part  of  the  work  is  the  history  of  his  two 

122 


YEIGWA  MONOGATARI 


123 

sons,  Yorimichi  and  Norimichi,  who  succeeded  to  his 
power. 

The  author's  style  and  method  have  been  greatly  in- 
fluenced by  his  models — the  more  fictitious  Monogatari. 
He  (or  she)  betrays  a preference  for  romantic  episodes, 
and  leans  to  a more  or  less  poetical  and  imaginative 
treatment  of  his  subject,  enlivening  his  narrative  with 
anecdotes,  and  adorning  his  pages  freely  with  the 
ubiquitous  Tanka. 

The  custom,  common  with  romance  writers  at  the 
present  day,  of  placing  fanciful  headings  to  every 
chapter,  began  with  this  work. 

The  following  passage  illustrates  the  strong  hold  which 
Buddhism  had  upon  the  Japanese  nation  at  this  period. 
It  may  be  premised  that  the  Mikado  Kwazan  ascended  the 
throne  in  985  at  the  age  of  seventeen.  He  was  provided 
with  three  beautiful  and  noble  women  as  consorts.  One 
of  these  he  became  passionately  fond  of,  and  when  she 
died  soon  after,  the  shock  was  too  great  for  a mind 
in  which  there  already  lurked  hereditary  germs  of  in- 
sanity : — 

“From  the  beginning  of  the  second  year  of  Kwanwa 
(986)  there  was  an  uneasy  feeling  in  the  minds  of  the 
people,  and  many  strange  warnings  were  given.  In  the 
palace  also  religious  abstinence  was  frequently  practised. 
Moreover  (at  what  time  this  began  is  uncertain)  the 
people  turned  their  minds  to  religion  in  an  extraordinary 
degree,  and  nothing  else  was  heard  of  but  of  one  becom- 
ing a nun  and  another  entering  the  priesthood.  When 
the  Mikado  was  informed  of  this,  he  bewailed  the  wretch- 
edness of  this  transitory  world.  He  must  have  thought 
to  himself,  1 Alas  ! how  deep  Kokiden's  [his  favourite 
wife]  sins  must  have  been.  Such  as  she  was,  her  guilt 


124 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


[in  some  past  existence]  was  surely  great  [or  she  would  not 
have  died  so  young].  Oh  that  I could  find  some  means 
of  doing  away  with  it ! ' His  august  heart  being  frequently 
disturbed  by  strange  and  lofty  thoughts  like  this,  the 
result  was  apparent  in  his  agitated  demeanour.  The 
Prime  Minister  noted  this  with  sorrow,  and  the  Chiunagon 
also,  the  Mikado’s  uncle,  must  in  secret  have  been  simply 
heart-broken.  Gonkiu,  a priest  of  the  monastery  of 
Kwazan,  was  continually  sent  for  in  order  to  expound 
the  scriptures,  and  the  Mikado’s  august  heart  was  given 
up  to  religion  in  an  infinite  measure.  His  remarks  about 
wife  and  child,  and  the  priceless  treasure  of  the  sovereign 
rank,  filled  the  Sachiuben  Korenari  with  the  utmost  pity, 
and  this  devotion  to  religion  gave  both  him  and  the 
Chiunagon  great  concern.  'To  give  up  the  world  and 
enter  religion/  they  said,  ' is  an  ordinary  course  to  take, 
but  how  will  it  be  in  this  case  ? ' Certain  expressions  of 
his  sentiments  from  time  to  time  must  have  been  due 
to  nought  else  but  an  evil  influence  proceeding  from 
Reizei-in  [his  father  and  predecessor  on  the  throne,  who 
became  insane].  Meanwhile,  they  noted  other  strange, 
unwonted,  and  unconscious  behaviour  of  the  Mikado, 
and  attended  closely  upon  him.  But  on  the  night  of  the 
22nd  day  of  the  sixth  month  of  this  year  he  suddenly  dis- 
appeared. An  alarm  was  given,  and  everybody,  without 
exception,  from  the  nobles-in-waiting  down  to  the  guards 
and  servants  of  meanest  rank,  procured  lights  and  sought 
everywhere.  But  no  trace  of  the  Mikado  could  be  found. 
The  Prime  Minister  with  the  other  ministers  and  nobles 
all  assembled.  Every  room  was  searched,  but  he  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  the  night  was  spent  by  all  in 
the  utmost  consternation  and  alarm. 

"The  Chiunagon,  prostrating  himself  in  grief  before 


O-KAGAMI 


125 


the  shrine  of  the  [Shinto]  gods,  protectors  of  the  palace, 
prayed  them  with  tears  and  lamentations  to  reveal  to  him 
the  place  where  his  precious  lord  was  hidden.  Then  he 
was  sought  for  by  parties  despatched  severally  to  all  the 
Buddhist  temples,  but  in  vain.  Meanwhile  his  consorts 
wept,  and  in  their  hearts  thought  what  a terrible  thing 
had  happened.  The  long  summer’s  night  at  length  gave 
way  to  dawn,  but  the  search  was  still  fruitless. 

“ The  Chiunagon  and  the  Sachiuben  Korenari  went  at 
last  to  Kwazan,  and  there  they  discovered  him  clothed  as 
a dear  little  priest.  They  fell  down  before  him  with 
exclamations  of  grief  and  concern,  and  both  followed  his 
example  and  entered  the  priesthood.” 

The  O-Kagami  or  “ Great  Mirror”  is  another  his- 
torical work.  It  contains  the  history  of  fourteen  reigns, 
beginning  with  that  of  Mondoku,  who  came  to  the 
throne  A.D.  851,  and  ending  with  that  of  Go  Ichijo, 
who  died  in  A.D.  1036.  The  author  was  one  Tamenari, 
a member  of  the  great  Fujiwara  family,  and  an  official 
attached  to  the  court  of  the  Mikado  Sutoku  (1124-1141). 
He  served  for  some  time  as  Director  of  the  Empress’s 
palace,  but  subsequently  assumed  the  tonsure  and  retired 
to  a hermitage  on  Mount  Ohara,  near  Kioto.  Here  he 
was  joined  by  his  two  brothers,  who  followed  his  ex- 
ample and  abandoned  the  world  for  a life  of  religion. 
Tamenari’s  preface  to  the  O-Kagami  shows  that  he  was 
a devout  Buddhist. 

Whether  we  have  regard  to  its  matter  or  to  its  form, 
the  O-Kagami  is  not  a very  important  contribution  to 
literature.  It  is  in  eight  volumes.  Volume  I.  contains, 
in  sixty-four  pages,  meagre  sketches  of  the  lives  of 
fourteen  Mikados.  The  year,  month,  and  day  of  birth, 
apppintment  as  Crown  Prince,  assumption  of  the  manly 


26 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


style  of  dressing  the  hair,  accession  to  the  throne  and 
death  of  each  sovereign,  are  set  down  baldly  in  a page 
or  two.  Then  follow  one  or  two  sentimental  or 
humorous  anecdotes,  adorned  as  usual  with  Tanka. 
There  is  little  more.  In  the  next  six  volumes  we  find 
biographies  of  the  principal  statesmen  during  the  same 
period.  This  part  of  the  work  is  somewhat  more  sub- 
stantial, but  there  is  still  a marked  inclination  towards 
the  anecdotal  and  romantic  treatment  of  the  subject. 
The  last  volume  is  an  excursus  on  the  origin  of  certain 
festivals  at  the  shrines  of  Kamo  and  Hachiman. 

The  O-Kagami  throws  but  little  light  on  the  times  of 
which  it  professes  to  give  the  history,  but  it  may  perhaps 
be  acceptable  as  an  addition  to  the  information  supplied 
us  by  the  drier  official  histories  in  the  Chinese  language. 

This  work,  with  the  Masa-Kagami , and  the  Midzu- 
Kagami  (to  be  noticed  afterwards),  are  known  as  the 
Mitsu-Kagami  or  “ Three  Mirrors/'  Mirror,  it  may  be 
explained,  is  a familiar  metaphor  for  history,  not  only  in 
Japan,  but  in  China  and  Corea. 

Before  closing  this  chapter,  one  or  two  works  in  the 
Chinese  language  require  to  be  mentioned. 

The  Shdjiroku  is  a sort  of  peerage.  It  was  prepared 
A.D.  815,  and  contains  the  genealogy  of  1182  noble 
families  of  Japan.  It  has  no  value  as  literature,  but  is 
useful  for  historical  reference,  and  has  one  interesting 
feature — it  shows  that  at  this  period  about  one-third  of 
the  Japanese  nobility  claimed  to  be  descended  from 
Chinese  or  Corean  ancestors. 

The  Yengishiki,  or  “ Institutes  of  the  Period  Yengi” 
(901-923),  was  completed  in  927.  The  first  two  volumes 
contain  minute  directions  for  the  celebration  of  the 
Shinto  rites  of  worship,  including  the  Norito  or 


WORKS  IN  CHINESE 


127 


liturgies  used  on  these  occasions,  which  were  now  for 
the  first  time,  so  far  as  we  know,  committed  to  writing, 
although  in  existence  for  centuries  previously.  The 
remaining  forty  volumes  give  a description  of  the 
organisation  of  the  various  Government  departments, 
the  duties  of  the  officials,  &c.  The  Yengishiki  is  a most 
valuable  work  of  reference. 

The  Wamidsho  is  a Chinese  - Japanese  dictionary, 
arranged  according  to  categories,  such  as  Heaven, 
Earth,  &c,,  and  is  valuable  to  philologists,  but  not 
otherwise.  The  author  of  this  lexicon  was  one  Mina- 
moto  no  Shitagaii  (911-983). 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH 


KAMAKURA  PERIOD  (1186-1332) 


(DECLINE  OF  LEARNING) 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH 


KAMAKURA  PERIOD  (1186-1332) 

(DECLINE  OF  LEARNING) 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTORY 

In  the  history  of  Japan,  as  in  that  of  many  other 
countries,  there  is  observable  an  alternate  tendency 
towards  strong  and  weak  central  governments,  which 
is  all  the  more  pronounced  as  the  insular  position  of  the 
country  protects  this  natural  oscillation  against  foreign 
interference.  From  time  to  time  rulers  of  commanding 
abilities  and  resolute  character  made  their  appearance, 
who  enlarged  the  sphere  of  authority  of  the  State,  and 
kept  local  ambitions  in  check.  But  sooner  or  later  the 
central  control  became  relaxed,  and  each  province  estab- 
lished a sort  of  Home  Rule  for  itself,  until  another  swing 
of  the  pendulum  took  place,  and  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment were  again  grasped  by  the  strong  hand  of  a single 
authority. 

The  establishment  by  the  Shogun  Yoritomo,  after 
much  hard  fighting,  of  the  sway  of  the  military  caste  at 
Kamakura,  near  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  marked 
the  beginning  of  one  of  these  periods  of  vigorous 


r 32 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


centralisation.  Though  the  Mikados  were  allowed  to 
retain  an  outward  semblance  of  authority,  all  real  power, 
civil  and  military,  had  passed  from  their  hands  ; while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  local  nobles  saw  themselves 
supplanted  by  officers  appointed  by  the  Shoguns  and 
entirely  dependent  on  them. 

Yoritomo  was  succeeded  by  his  two  sons,  who  with 
their  father  are  known  to  history  as  the  “Three  Shoguns." 
After  them  the  Hojo  dynasty  of  Shikken  (directors),  who 
were  simply  Shoguns  under  a different  name,  took  their 
place  as  the  rulers  of  Japan.  They  remained  in  power 
until  A.D.  1335. 

The  rule  of  a class  to  whose  very  existence  a practical 
knowledge  of  war  and  warlike  accomplishments  was 
vital,  and  who  necessarily  neglected,  if  they  did  not 
despise,  intellectual  culture,  was  not  conducive  to  the 
production  of  important  literary  works.  Nor  was  this 
the  only  unfavourable  condition  of  the  time.  Inter- 
course with  China  and  Corea  had  become  much  inter- 
rupted. The  shores  of  these  countries  were  infested 
by  Japanese  pirates,  in  punishment  for  whose  descents 
it  was  that  Kublai  Khan  despatched  his  famous  but 
abortive  expedition  against  Japan.  Chinese  learning 
consequently  languished.  Buddhism,  on  the  other  hand, 
flourished  greatly,  as  the  colossal  figure  of  Buddha 
(a.d.  1252)  at  Kamakura  testifies  to  this  day.  Most  of 
the  Mikados,  after  a few  years  of  reign,  became  monks, 
as  did  also  many  of  the  highest  personages  of  their  court, 
though  it  must  be  said  that  the  adage  “ Cucullus  non  facit 
monachum  ” was  in  their  case  abundantly  exemplified. 

The  three  thousand  monasteries  which  at  this  time 
dotted  the  slopes  of  Hiyeisan  (a  mountain  north-east  of 
Kioto)  were  a very  material  embodiment  of  Buddhist 


KAMAKURA  PERIOD 


133 


influence.  Not  content  with  mere  spiritual  weapons, 
the  inmates  of  these  establishments  were  always  ready, 
on  the  smallest  provocation,  to  don  their  armour  over 
their  monastic  frocks  and  troop  down  to  the  streets  of 
Kioto  to  place  their  swords  in  whatever  scale  of  the 
politics  of  the  day  seemed  to  them  most  expedient.  They 
were  the  terror  of  the  Mikados,  one  of  whom  is  recorded 
to  have  said  : “ There  are  three  things  I cannot  control — 
the  water  of  the  Kamogawa  (a  river  which  does  frequent 
damage  to  Kioto  by  its  floods),  the  fall  of  the  dice,  and 
the  monks  of  Buddha/’ 

It  was,  however,  the  Buddhist  monks  who  were  the 
chief  maintainers  of  learning  during  this  period.  Some 
of  the  men  of  letters  were  ecclesiastics,  and  even  when 
this  was  not  the  case,  their  writings  are  deeply  imbued 
with  Buddhist  teachings  and  sentiments.  The  vanity  of 
wealth  and  power,  and  the  uncertainty  of  human  things, 
form  the  constant  refrain  of  their  moralisings. 

In  comparison  with  the  Heian  period,  the  contribu- 
tions by  women  to  the  literature  of  this  time  are  insig- 
nificant, and  altogether  a more  virile,  if  less  refined, 
spirit  is  discernible.  There  are  hardly  any  of  those 
debonair  romances  which  in  the  preceding  period 
amused  the  leisure  of  the  nobles  of  Kioto.  The  newer 
literature,  with  its  tales  of  combats  and  battles,  reflects 
the  more  warlike  temper  of  the  times  of  which  it  is  the 
product.  As  a Japanese  writer  has  observed,  u The 
Heian  literature  is  like  the  Kaido  ( Pyrus  spectabilis) 
drooping  after  rain ; that  of  the  Kamakura  period 
resembles  the  plum-blossom  which  exhales  its  perfume 
in  the  snow  and  frost.” 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  more  important  writings  of 

this  period  belong  to  the  earlier  part  of  it. 

10 


CHAPTER  II 


HISTORICAL  WORKS 

The  authorship  of  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  is  doubtfully 
ascribed  to  one  Hamuro  Tokinaga,  of  whom  we  know 
little  or  nothing.  He  is  also  conjectured  to  have  written 
the  Heiji  Monogatari  and  Hogen  Monogatari}  but  of  this 
too  there  is  no  certainty.  The  precise  date  of  its  com- 
position is  likewise  unknown.  It  must  belong  to  the  early 
part  of  the  Kamakura  period. 

The  Gempei  Seisuiki , as  its  name  indicates,  is  a history 
of  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Gen  and  Hei,  two  great  noble 
families  whose  struggles  for  supremacy  convulsed  Japan 
during  the  latter  half  of  the  twelfth  century.  It  is  in 
forty-eight  books,  and  embraces  the  period  from  A.D, 
1161  to  1185.  No  doubt  itself  suggested  by  the  Chinese 
Yengi  or  “ Paraphrases  of  History,”  of  which  the  Sa/i- 
kwo-ciiih  is  the  best  known,  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  is  the 
first  example  in  Japan  of  a large  class  of  quasi-historical 
works  to  which  there  is  nothing  precisely  similar  in 
our  literature,  though  a comparison  with  Shakespeare’s 
historical  plays  will  convey  some  idea  of  the  relative  pro- 
portions of  fact  and  fiction  which  they  contain.  They 
have  no  original  plot,  and  little  or  no  introduction  of 
imaginary  personages.  The  writers  content  themselves 
with  following  the  general  course  of  real  history,  while 

adorning  it  with  what  flourish  their  nature  prompts. 

134 


GEMPEI  SEISUIKI 


135 


But  the  u flourish"  means  a great  deal.  It  is  not  only 
rhetorical  ornament  and  sententious  reflections  which 
these  authors  provide.  They  evolve  from  their  inner 
consciousness  speeches  for  statesmen  and  soldiers,  war- 
like stratagems  for  generals,  prayers  for  the  devout, 
appropriate  omens,  dreams,  incantations,  and  miraculous 
incidents  in  great  variety,  with  a host  of  minute  details 
of  dress,  of  pompous  processions,  of  hairbreadth  escapes, 
of  single  combats,  and  the  like.  Tanka,  original  or 
otherwise,  are  supplied  whenever  the  occasion  seems  to 
demand  them. 

The  Gempei  Seisuiki  is  a work  of  considerable  literary 
pretensions,  and  in  its  own  special  style  is  only  surpassed 
by  the  Taiheiki.  The  language  marks  a considerable 
advance  towards  the  modern  form  of  Japanese.  While 
the  works  of  the  Heian  period  are  very  imperfectly 
intelligible  to  an  ordinary  educated  Japanese,  with  the 
Gempei  Seisuiki  he  finds  little  difficulty.  Much  of  the 
older  grammatical  equipment  of  particles  and  termina- 
tions is  now  dispensed  with,  and  the  vocabulary  shows 
a large  increment  of  Chinese  words,  a notable  propor- 
tion of  which  owe  their  introduction  to  Buddhist 
influences. 

The  following  is  part  of  the  account  of  the  naval 
engagement  of  Dannoura,  one  of  the  decisive  battles 
of  Japanese  history.  By  it  the  strife  between  the  great 
Hei‘  (or  Taira)  and  Gen  (or  Minamoto)  factions  was 
brought  to  an  end  for  the  time,  and  Yoritomo  enabled 
to  establish  his  authority  over  all  Japan. 

“The  capture  of  Yashima  shut  out  the  House  of  Hei 
from  Kiushiu.  Unable  to  find  a port  of  refuge,  they 
drifted  on  to  Dannoura  in  Nagato,  Akama  (Shimono- 
seki),  Moji,  and  Hikushima.  Here  they  remained  afloat 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


136 

upon  the  waves,  passing  the  time  on  board  their  ships. 
The  Gen  fleet  arrived  at  the  bay  of  Katsura,  in  the 
province  of  Awa.  They  had  been  victorious  in  the 
conflicts  engaged  in  in  various  places,  and  had  taken  the 
palace  of  Yashima.  They  now  followed  the  movements 
of  the  Hei  ships,  pursuing  them  by  land,  as  the  hawk 
urges  the  pheasants  when  the  moors  are  burnt  and  no 
cover  is  left.  The  Gen  fleet  reached  a place  called 
Oitsuheitsu,  twenty  chd  or  more  [about  two  miles] 
from  where  the  adherents  of  the  Hei  House  were 
stationed. 

“ On  the  24th  day  of  the  third  month  of  the  same 
year  [1185],  Yoshitsune  [the  Gen  general,  brother  of 
Yoritomo]  and  his  army,  in  seven  hundred  ships  or 
more,  attacked  the  enemy  at  dawn.  The  House  of  Hei 
were  not  unprepared.  With  five  hundred  war-ships  or 
more,  they  advanced  to  meet  him,  and  the  exchange  of 
arrows  [by-  way  of  formal  defiance]  took  place.  The 
Gen  and  Hei  troops  numbered  together  over  100,000 
men,  and  the  sound  of  the  battle-cry  raised  on  both 
sides,  with  the  song  of  the  turnip-headed  arrows  [a 
special  kind  of  arrow  which  made  a noise  like  a hum- 
ming-top] as  they  crossed  each  other’s  course,  was 
startling  to  hear — audible,  one  would  think,  as  far  as 
the  azure  sky  above,  and  re-echoing  downwards  to  the 
depths  of  the  sea. 

“Noriyori  [with  other  Gen  generals]  had  arrived  at 
Kiushiu  with  30,000  cavalry,  and  had  cut  off  the  retreat 
in  that  direction.  The  Hei  were  like  a caged  bird  that 
cannot  escape,  or  a fish  in  a trap  from  which  there  is 
no  exit.  On  the  sea  there  were  ships  floating,  by  land 
were  bridle-bits  in  ranged  lines.  East  and  west,  south  and 
north  were  closed,  and  on  no  side  was  evasion  possible. 


GEMPEI  SEISUIKI  137 

“ Tomomori  [a  Hei  general]  stood  forward  on  the  bow 
of  his  ship  and  spoke  as  follows  : — 

“ ‘ Let  us  think  this  day  our  last,  and  let  us  all  banish 
the  thought  of  retreat.  In  ancient  and  modern  times 
there  have  been  examples  of  even  famous  generals  and 
brave  soldiers,  when  their  armies  were  beaten  and 
their  good  fortune  exhausted,  being  captured  by  a 
traveller  or  taken  prisoner  by  a wayfarer.  All  these 
arose  from  the  endeavour  to  avoid  a death  which  was 
inevitable.  Let  us  each  one  at  this  time  abandon  our 
lives  to  destruction,  and  think  of  nothing  else  but  to 
leave  a name  to  after  ages.  Let  us  show  no  weakness 
before  these  fellows  from  the  east  country.  What  have 
we  done  that  we  should  be  grudging  even  of  our 
lives  ? Let  us  unite  in  the  resolve  to  seize  Yoshitsune 
and  fling  him  into  the  sea.  This  should  be  the  chief 
object  of  to-day’s  battle.’  ” 

The  first  onset  was  favourable  to  the  Hei  faction, 
upon  which  : — 

“ Yoshitsune,  observing  that  his  troops  showed  signs 
of  yielding,  rinsed  his  mouth  in  the  salt  tide,  and  with 
closed  eyes  and  folded  palms  preyed  to  Hachiman 
Daibosatsu1  to  grant  him  his  protection.  Hereupon  a 
pair  of  white  doves  [the  pigeon  is  sacred  to  Hachi- 
man] flew  thither  and  alit  on  Yoshitsune's  flag.  While 
Gen  and  Hei  were  saying,  “ Look  there,  look  there,”  a 
mass  of  black  clouds  came  floating  from  the  east  and 
hung  over  the  scene  of  battle.  From  amidst  this  cloud 
a white  flag  descended,  while  Yoshitsune’s  flag,  its  top 

1 This  deity  has  a curious  history.  Originally  the  Mikado  Ojin,  he  was 
credited  with  having  conquered  Corea  while  an  unborn  infant.  Then  he 
became  the  Shinto  god  of  war,  and  finally  was  annexed  by  the  Buddhists, 
who  added  to  his  name  the  Buddhist  title  of  “ Daibosatsu.” 


133 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


waving  to  and  fro,  passed  away  along  with  the  clouds. 
The  Gen  joined  their  hands  together  in  prayer,  while 
the  Hei’s  hair  stood  on  end,  and  their  hearts  felt  small 
within  them. 

“ The  Gen  soldiers,  encouraged  by  such  favourable 
omens,  shouted  aloud  in  their  ardour.  Some  embarked 
in  boats  and  rowed  on  and  on,  fighting  as  they  went. 
Others,  marching  along  the  dry  land,  and  fitting  arrows 
to  their  bows  one  after  another  in  quick  succession, 
engaged  in  a battle  of  archery.” 

This  is  described  in  a style  which  recalls  the  com- 
bats of  the  Iliad , the  doings  and  sayings  of  individual 
heroes  being  related  in  great  detail. 

“The  Gen  were  many,  and  encouraged  by  success, 
pressed  forward  to  the  attack ; the  Hei  were  fewer, 
but  acquitted  themselves  as  if  that  day  were  their  last. 
Can  the  battle  of  Indra  with  the  Asuras  have  been 
more  terrible  than  this  ? 

“The  Hei  ships  were  drawn  up  two  or  three  deep. 
The  ship  of  Chinese  build  was  furnished  with  troops 
in  a manner  which  showed  that  the  general  was  on 
board.  On  the  [ordinary]  fighting-ships  the  Daijin  and 
other  fit  officers  of  lower  rank  were  embarked.  It  was 
the  plan  of  the  Hei,  whilst  the  Gen  were  attacking  The 
Chinese  ship,  that  their  fighting-ships  should  fetch  a 
circuit  round  the  enemy's  vessels,  and  enclosing  them, 
smite  the  Gen  to  a man. 

“Thereupon  Shigeyoshi,  hitherto  so  faithful  to  the 
Hei  cause,  suddenly  changed  his  heart,  and  with  three 
hundred  ships  or  more,  manned  with  troops  from 
Shikoku,  rowed  away,  and  remained  a passive  spectator 
of  the  battle,  prepared,  if  the  Hei  proved  the  stronger, 
to  shoot  his  arrows  at  the  Gen  ; if  the  Gen  seemed 


HEIKE  MONOGATARI 


39 


likely  to  gain  the  victory,  to  aim  them  at  the  Hei. 
How  true  is  it  that  heaven  may  be  reckoned  upon, 
earth  may  be  reckoned  upon  ; the  only  thing  which  we 
cannot  reckon  on  is  the  heart  of  man.” 

Ultimately  Shigeyoshi  betrays  to  Yoshitsune  the  Hei 
plan  of  battle,  with  the  result  that  the  latter  faction 
are  completely  overthrown. 

The  authorship  and  precise  date  of  the  Heike  Mojio- 
gatari  are  unknown.  It  was  probably  composed  soon 
after  the  Gempei  Seisuiki , of  which  it  is  little  more  than 
an  adaptation,  page  after  page  being  simply  copied  from 
the  latter  work.  But  as  if  its  model  and  source  had  not 
already  departed  sufficiently  from  true  history,  the  Heike 
Monogatari , which  covers  the  same  ground  and  relates 
the  same  events,  adds  a number  of  inventions  of  its  own, 
under  the  inspiration  of  patriotic  or  pious  motives,  or  for 
the  sake  of  poetical  or  dramatic  effect.  It  is  said  that  a 
main  object  of  the  author  was  to  produce  a narrative 
which  could  be  chanted  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
biwa,  a kind  of  four-stringed  lute.  That  it  was  so  chanted 
by  men  with  shaven  heads  called  biwa-bozu  (biwa- 
bonzes)  is  a fact  frequently  referred  to  by  later  writers. 
In  this  form  it  became  immensely  popular,  and  even  at 
the  present  day  it  is  far  better  known  than  the  Gempei 
Seisuiki,  a work  much  superior  to  it  in  merit.  Motoori, 
reasoning  from  the  premiss  that  everything  which  can 
be  sung  is  poetry,  classes  the  Heike  accordingly.  He 
says  that  even  though  the  actual  count  of  syllables  will 
not  come  right,  they  can  be  slurred  over  in  singing  so  as 
to  make  metre.  The  reader  might  expect  from  this  to 
find  that  the  Heike  is  an  example  of  poetical  prose  some- 
what in  the  style  of  Ossian.  But  there  is  really  hardly 


140 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


anything  to  justify  Motoori’s  opinion.  Its  style,  though 
occasionally  more  or  less  ornate,  is  not  really  more 
poetical  than  that  of  many  books  for  which  no  such 
pretension  is  advanced.  To  this,  however,  an  excep- 
tion must  be  noticed.  In  a very  few  passages,  forming 
altogether  an  utterly  insignificant  part  of  the  book,  there 
is  something  of  that  alternation  of  phrases  of  five  and 
seven  syllables  which  in  Japan  constitutes  metre,  and 
the  diction  and  thought  bear  traces  of  an  attempt  to 
treat  the  subject  in  a poetical  manner.  The  following 
is  a specimen  : — 

A local  official  named  Morotsune,  having  had  a dispute 
with  the  monks  of  a certain  temple,  burnt  it.  The  latter 
assembled  the  monks  of  the  parent  monastery,  to  the 
number  of  over  two  thousand  men,  and  approached  his 
official  residence  : — 

“ And  now  the  sun  went  down. 

Resolved  to  engage  battle  on  the  morrow , 

That  night  they  drew  near  and  contauied  themselves. 

The  breath  of  the  dew-laden  wind  of  autumn 
Fluttered  the  left  sleeves  of  their  armour. 

The  light?iing  which  illumined  the  clouds  above 
Made  the  stars  of  their  helmets  to  blaze. 

Morotsune,  feeling  that  resistance  was  in  vain, 

Fled  up  by  night  to  Kioto. 

The  next  day  they  advanced  at  the  hour  of  the  Hare  [sunrise] 

And  abruptly  raised  the  battle-cry  j 

But  within  the  castle  not  a sound  was  heard. 

A inan  was  sent  to  examine. 

But  reported  that  they  had  all  decamped.  ” 

Even  in  this  short  passage  the  regularity  of  metre  and 
the  poetical  diction  are  not  well  sustained. 

It  would  not  be  necessary  to  dwell  on  this  feature  of 
the  Heike  Monogatari  but  for  the  circumstance  that  we 
have  here  the  beginning  of  a kind  of  composition  which 


HEIKE  MONOGATARI 


4i 


subsequently  became  very  popular  in  Japan.  The  Tai- 
hciki  carried  this  “ dropping  into  poetry  ” somewhat 
further,  and  the  modern  dramatists  and  novelists  have 
bestowed  on  us  much  tediousness  of  this  particular 
description. 

After  the  battlj  of  Dannoiira  (see  p.  135),  the  Mikado 
Antoku’s  nurse,  seeing  that  all  was  over,  took  him  into 
her  arms  (he  was  then  a boy  of  eight  years  of  age)  and 
plunged  into  the  sea  with  him.  Both  were  drowned. 
The  following  is  the  Heike  Monogatari's  account  of  this 
incident : — 

“ Niidono  was  long  ago  prepared  for  this  [the  defeat  of 
the  Hei  or  Taira  party].  Throwing  over  her  head  her 
double  garment  of  sombre  hue,  and  tucking  up  high  the 
side  of  her  trousers  of  straw-coloured  silk,  she  placed 
under  her  arm  the  Sacred  Seal,  and  girt  on  her  loins  the 
Sacred  Sword.  Then  taking  the  sovereign  to  her  bosom, 
she  said,  ‘ Although  a woman,  I will  not  allow  the  enemy 
to  lay  hands  on  me.  I will  accompany  my  sovereign. 
All  ye  who  have  regard  for  his  intention  make  haste  and 
follow.’  So  saying,  she  calmly  placed  her  foot  on  the 
ship’s  side.  The  sovereign  had  this  year  reached  the 
age  of  eight,  but  looked  much  older.  His  august  coun- 
tenance was  so  beautiful  that  it  cast  a lustre  round  about. 
His  black  locks  hung  loosely  down  below  his  back.  With 
an  astonished  expression  he  inquired,  ‘Now,  whither  do 
you  propose  to  take  me,  Amaze  ? ’ 1 Niidono  turned  her 
face  to  her  child-lord,  and  with  tears  that  fell  bara-bara} 
‘Do  you  not  know,  my  lord,’  said  she,  ‘that  although, 
by  virtue  of  your  keeping  the  Ten  Commandments 
in  a previous  state  of  existence,  you  have  been  born 
into  this  world  as  the  ruler  of  ten  thousand  chariots, 

1 A respectful  title  for  women  who  have  taken  Buddhist  vows. 


142 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


yet  having  become  involved  in  an  evil  destiny,  your 
good  fortune  is  now  at  an  end  ? Be  pleased  to  turn 
first  to  the  east,  and  bid  adieu  to  the  shrine  of  the 
Great  God  of  Ise.  Then  turn  to  the  west,  and  call 
upon  the  name  of  Buddha,  solemnly  committing  your- 
self to  the  charge  of  those  who  will  come  to  meet  you 
from  the  Paradise  of  the  Western  Land.  This  world 
is  the  region  of  sorrow,  a remote  spot  small  as  a grain 
of  millet.  But  beneath  the  waves  there  is  a fair  city 
called  the  Pure  Land  of  Perfect  Happiness.  Thither  it 
is  that  I am  taking  you.'  With  such  words  she  soothed 
him.  The  child  then  tied  his  top-knot  to  the  Imperial 
robe  of  the  colour  of  a mountain-dove,  and  tearfully 
joined  together  his  lovely  little  hands.  First  he  turned 
to  the  east,  and  bade  adieu  to  the  shrine  of  the  Great 
God  of  Ise  and  the  shrine  of  Hachiman.  Next  he 
turned  to  the  west,  and  called  upon  the  name  of  Buddha. 
When  he  had  done  so,  Niidono  made  bold  to  take  him  in 
her  arms,  and  soothing  him  with  the  words,  ‘ There  is  a 
city  away  below  the  waves/  sank  down  to  the  bottom 
one  thousand  fathoms  deep.  Alas,  the  pity  of  it ! — the 
changeful  winds  of  spring  swiftly  scattered  the  flowery 
august  form.  Alas,  the  pain  of  it  ! — the  rude  billows 
of  severance  buried  the  jewel  person.  His  palace  had 
been  called  Chosei,  to  denote  that  it  was  established  as 
his  long  abode ; and  the  gate  inscribed  Furo,  that  is, 
the  portal  through  which  old  age  enters  not.  But  ere 
ten  years  had  passed  he  had  become  drift  of  the  deep 
sea.  In  the  case  of  such  a virtuous  monarch  it  would 
be  wholly  idle  to  talk  of  reward  and  retribution.  It  is 
the  dragon  of  the  region  above  the  clouds  descending 
and  becoming  a fish.” 

A comparison  of  the  above  with  the  corresponding 


MIDZU-ICAGAMI 


143 


passage  of  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  shows  very  clearly  the 
different  character  of  the  two  works.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  latter  about  praying  to  Shinto  deities  or  to  Buddha, 
and  no  talk  of  a future  Paradise.  When  the  young 
monarch  asks  where  his  nurse  is  taking  him,  instead  of 
the  devout  sentiments  attributed  to  her  by  the  Heike 
Monogatari,  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  tells  us  that  she  said, 
“ The  soldiers  are  shooting  arrows  at  the  august  ship, 
and  I have  the  honour  to  escort  your  Majesty  to 
another  one." 

The  honorifics  characteristic  of  the  Japanese  lan- 
guage come  in  very  oddly  in  some  of  these  passages. 
Thus  in  the  above  the  waves  “ respectfully  " submerge 
the  Mikado,  the  enemy's  soldiers  “ respectfully " direct 
their  arrows  against  the  august  ship,  and  so  forth.  It 
would  be  tedious  to  follow  these  peculiarities  in  a 
translation. 

The  authorship  of  the  historical  work  called  Midzu-Kag - 
ami(“  Water-Mirror  ")  is  really  unknown.  It  has  been  as- 
cribed to  Nakayama  Tadachika,  who  was  born  1131,  and 
died  1195.  Omitting  the  myths  of  the  so-called  “ Age  of 
the  Gods,"  the  writer  begins  his  history  with  the  legend  of 
Jimmu  Tenno,  the  first  Mikado,  and  brings  it  down  through 
fifty-four  reigns  to  the  death  of  Nimmio  in  850.  It  is  of 
course  impossible  to  give  anything  but  a meagre  outline 
of  the  history  of  this  long  period  in  three  volumes  of  no 
great  bulk.  Its  value  is  small.  In  the  earlier  part  it  is 
little  more  than  an  epitome  of  the  Nihongi.  The  story 
is  told  in  a plain,  artless  fashion,  without  rhetorical  orna- 
ment, philosophical  reflections,  or  the  least  attempt  to 
trace  the  causes  or  connection  of  events.  Whoever  the 
author  was,  he  was  a devout  Buddhist,  to  which  fact  is 


144  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

no  doubt  to  be  attributed  a certain  miraculous  element 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  history. 

The  Midzu-Kagami  is  an  obvious  imitation  of  the 
0-Kagami.  The  language  is  comparatively  free  from 
Chinese  admixture,  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  style 
the  work  is  to  be  classed  with  the  literature  of  the  Heian 
period. 

The  authorship  of  the  Hogen  Monogatari  and  Heiji 
Monogatari  is  attributed  to  Hamuro  Tokinaga,  who 
lived  towards  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century.  The 
former  contains  an  account  of  the  civil  disturbances  in 
Kioto  in  the  year  1157,  arising  out  of  a dispute  respecting 
the  succession  to  the  throne  ; the  latter  is  a record  of  the 
renewal  of  the  conflict  in  1159.  The  result  of  this  fight- 
ing was  the  downfall  for  a time  of  the  power  of  the  great 
Minamoto  (Gen)  family,  and  the  establishment  of  the 
Taira  (Hei)  family  in  power. 


CHAPTER  III 


CHOMEI  AND  THE  “HOJOKI” 

Kamo  Chomei,  the  author  of  the  Hojoki , was  a guardian 
of  the  Shinto  shrine  of  Kamo  in  Kioto.  Having  acquired 
some  reputation  as  a musician  and  poet,  he  was  appointed 
by  the  retired  Mikado  Go  Toba  to  a post  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Japanese  Poetry.  He  subsequently  petitioned  to 
be  allowed  to  succeed  his  father  as  superior  guardian  of 
Kamo,  but  his  prayer  was  not  granted.  This  he  resented 
deeply,  and  shaving  his  head,  retired  to  a hermitage  on 
Oharayama,  a few  miles  from  Kioto. 

The  Hojoki , written  in  1212,  is  a record  of  the  author’s 
personal  experiences.  It  is  valued  highly  for  its  excel- 
lent style,  which  is  not  too  close  an  imitation  of  the  older 
classical  manner,  nor  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  overloaded 
with  Chinese  expressions.  After  giving  an  account  of 
the  great  fire  of  Kioto  in  1177,  the  famine  of  1181,  and 
the  earthquake  of  1185,  the  writer  of  these  memoirs 
proceeds  to  tell  us  of  the  mountain  hermitage  to  which 
he  fled  in  order  to  escape  from  a world  so  rife  with 
direful  calamities.  His  hut  and  mode  of  life  are 
minutely  described,  with  many  touches  which  not  only 
give  indications  of  his  own  tastes  and  character,  but 
reveal  something  of  the  inner  spirit  of  the  Buddhist 
religion.  It  is  a tiny  book  on  which  to  rest  so  high 
a reputation,  containing  some  thirty  pages  only,  and  it 
is  therefore  possible  to  transcribe  all  the  more  interest- 


146 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ing  passages.  Hdjd}  it  may  be  premised,  means  “ten 
feet  square,"  the  supposed  dimensions  of  a hermit’s  cell, 
and  actually  those  of  Chomei’s  hut.  Ki  means  “ notes  ” 
or  “record." 

“The  current  of  a running  stream  flows  on  unceas- 
ingly, but  the  water  is  not  the  same  : the  foam  floating 
on  the  pool  where  it  lingers,  now  vanishes  and  now 
forms  again,  but  is  never  lasting.  Such  are  man- 
kind and  their  habitations.  In  a splendid  capital  where 
the  dwellings  of  the  exalted  and  of  the  lowly  join 
their  roof-trees  and  with  their  tiles  jostle  one  another, 
they  may  appear  to  go  on  without  an  interval  from 
generation  to  generation.  But  we  shall  find,  if  we  make 
inquiry,  that  there  are  in  reality  but  few  which  are  ancient. 
Some  were  destroyed  last  year  to  be  rebuilt  this  year  ; 
others,  which  were  great  houses,  have  been  ruined,  and 
replaced  by  smaller  ones.  The  same  is  true  of  their 
inmates.  If  we  have  lived  long  in  a place  where  we 
have  numbers  of  acquaintances,  we  find  that  but  one 
or  two  are  left  of  twenty  or  thirty  whom  we  knew 
formerly.  In  the  morning  some  die,  in  the  evening 
some  are  born.  Such  is  life.  It  may  be  compared 
to  foam  upon  the  water.  Whether  they  are  born  or 
whether  they  die,  we  know  not  whence  they  come  nor 
whither  they  go.  Nor  in  this  temporary  sojourning- 
place  do  we  know  who  will  benefit  by  the  trouble  we 
put  ourselves  to,  or  wherewithal  to  give  pleasure  to 
the  eyes.  Of  a house  and  its  master  I know  not 
which  is  the  more  subject  to  change.  Both  are  like 
the  dew  on  the  convolvulus.  The  dew  may  fall,  leaving 
the  flower  behind  ; but  even  so,  the  flower  fades  with 
the  morning  sun.  Again,  the  flower  may  wither,  while 


HOJOKI  147 

the  dew  remains  ; but  even  so,  it  cannot  last  until 
evening. 

“ During  the  forty  springs  and  summers  which  have 
passed  since  I first  knew  the  heart  of  things,  many 
extraordinary  events  have  happened.  In  the  third  year 
of  Angen  (1177),  on  the  twenty-eighth  day  of  the 
fourth  month,  the  night  being  unquiet  by  reason  of  a 
violent  wind,  a fire  broke  out  in  the  south-eastern  part 
of  the  capital,  about  eight  o'clock,  and  spread  in  a 
north-westerly  direction,  gaining  the  southern  gate  of 
the  Palace,  the  Hall  of  Audience,  the  University  build- 
ings, and  the  Home  Office.  That  same  night  all  were 
reduced  to  ashes.  It  was  said  to  have  had  its  origin 
in  a temporary  building  used  as  a hospital.  Urged  by 
the  blasts  of  the  devious  wind,  it  spread  this  way  and 
that  until  it  widened  out  like  an  extended  fan.  The 
distant  houses  were  immersed  in  smoke,  while  the 
nearer  ground  was  completely  covered  with  the  sparks 
blown  on  to  it.  The  ashes,  driven  aloft  into  the  sky, 
and  illumined  by  the  flames,  formed  a ruddy  back- 
ground against  which  the  sparks  might  be  seen,  con- 
tinually detached  by  the  gusts,  and  as  it  were  flying 
over  a space  of  several  hundred  yards  to  some  new 
quarter.  Imagine  the  distracted  state  of  the  inhabitants  ! 
Some  there  were  who  fell  down,  stifled  by  the  smoke  ; 
others,  involved  in  flames,  met  with  a sudden  death  ; 
others,  again,  barely  escaped  with  their  lives,  and  were 
unable  to  save  their  property.  Their  seven  rare  things 
and  their  ten  thousand  treasures  became  mere  ashes. 
How  great  were  the  losses  ! Sixteen  houses  of  nobles 
were  consumed,  and  others  without  number.  One-third 
of  all  Kioto  was  destroyed.  Several  thousands  of  men 
and  women  lost  their  lives,  and  an  immense  number 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


148 

of  cattle.  All  the  ways  of  man  are  full  of  vanity,  but 
it  may  be  deemed  specially  unprofitable  to  build  our- 
selves dwellings  in  so  dangerous  a place  as  the  capital, 
wasting  our  wealth,  and  giving  ourselves  much  anxiety 
of  mind. 

“ Again,  on  the  29th  day  of  the  fourth  month  of  the 
fourth  year  of  Jisho  (1180),  there  was  a great  whirlwind 
which  arose  in  the  Kiogoku  quarter,  and  blew  with 
much  violence  as  far  as  Rokujo.  Three  or  four  of  the 
city  wards  received  its  full  force.  In  these  there  was 
not  a single  house,  great  or  small,  which  was  not  de- 
stroyed by  its  whirling  blasts.  Some  were  simply  laid 
flat  on  the  ground ; in  others  nothing  was  left  but  the 
posts  and  cross-beams.  The  roofs  of  gates  were  blown 
off  and  deposited  at  a distance  of  several  streets.  Fences 
were  swept  away,  removing  all  distinction  between  a 
neighbour’s  ground  and  one’s  own.  It  need  hardly  be 
said  that  all  the  contents  of  the  houses  without  excep- 
tion rose  to  the  sky,  while  the  bark  and  shingles  of  the 
roofs  were  scattered  abroad  like  autumnal  leaves  before 
the  wind.  The  dust  was  blown  up  Lke  smoke,  so  that 
nothing  could  be  seen,  and  the  din  was  so  tremendous 
that  one  could  not  hear  his  neighbour  speak.  The 
blasts  of  the  Buddhist  Inferno  of  which  we  have  been 
told  must  be  something  of  this  kind.  Not  only  were 
houses  destroyed,  but  countless  numbers  of  people  were 
injured,  and  became  cripples  [by  exposure]  while  their 
homes  were  being  repaired.  This  wind  passed  off  in 
a south-westerly  direction,  having  caused  lamentation  to 
many.  Now  a whirlwind  is  an  ordinary  phenomenon, 
but  this  was  no  mere  natural  occurrence  ; I strongly 
suspect  that  it  was  sent  as  a warning.” 

[Here  follows  an  account  of  the  miseries  attendant 


HOJOKI  149 

upon  the  removal  of  the  capital  to  Settsu  in  the  same 
year  (1180).] 

“ It  is  so  long  ago  that  I do  not  exactly  remember,  but 
I believe  it  was  in  the  period  Yowa  (1181-2)  that  there 
was  for  two  years  a very  wretched  state  of  things  caused 
by  famine.  Misfortunes  succeeded  one  another.  Either 
there  was  drought  in  spring  and  summer,  or  there  were 
storms  and  floods  in  autumn  and  winter,  so  that  no  grain 
came  to  maturity.  The  spring  ploughing  was  in  vain, 
and  the  labour  of  summer  planting  [of  the  young  rice] 
came  to  naught.  There  was  no  bustle  of  reaping  in 
autumn,  or  of  ingathering  in  winter.  In  all  the  pro- 
vinces people  left  their  lands  and  sought  other  parts, 
or,  forgetting  their  homes,  went  to  live  among  the  hills. 
All  kinds  of  prayers  were  begun,  and  even  religious 
practices  which  were  unusual  in  ordinary  times  revived, 
but  to  no  purpose  whatever.  The  capital,  dependent  as 
it  is  on  the  country  for  everything,  could  not  remain 
unconcerned  when  nothing  was  produced.  The  inhabi- 
tants in  their  distress  offered  to  sacrifice  their  valuables  of 
all  kinds  one  after  another,  but  nobody  cared  to  look  at 
them.  Even  if  buyers  came  forward,  they  made  little 
account  of  gold,  and  much  of  grain.  Beggars  swarmed 
by  the  roadsides,  and  our  ears  were  filled  with  the  sound 
of  their  lamentations.  Amid  such  misery  we  with  diffi- 
culty reached  the  close  of  the  first  year.  With  the  new 
year,  men’s  hopes  revived.  But  that  nothing  might  be 
left  to  complete  our  misfortunes,  a pestilence  broke  out 
and  continued  without  ceasing.  Everybody  was  dying 
of  hunger,  and  as  time  went  on,  our  condition  became  as 
desperate  as  that  of  the  fish  in  the  small  pool  of  the  story. 
At  last  even  respectable-looking  people  wearing  hats,  and 

with  their  feet  covered,  might  be  seen  begging  importu- 
11 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


150 

nately  from  door  to  door.  Sometimes  while  you  won- 
dered how  such  utterly  wretched  creatures  could  walk  at 
all,  they  fell  down  before  your  eyes.  By  garden  walls  or 
on  the  roadsides  countless  persons  died  of  famine,  and  as 
their  bodies  were  not  removed,  the  world  was  filled  with 
evil  odours.  As  they  changed,  there  were  many  sights 
which  the  eyes  could  not  endure  to  see.  It  was  worse 
on  the  river  banks  where  there  was  not  even  room  for 
horses  and  vehicles  to  pass  back  and  forwards.  Porters 
and  woodcutters  too  became  so  feeble  that  firewood 
got  scarcer  and  scarcer,  and  people  who  had  no  means 
pulled  down  their  houses  and  sold  the  materials  in  the 
market.  It  was  said  that  a load  for  one  man  was  not 
enough  to  provide  him  with  sustenance  for  a single  day. 
It  was  strange  to  see  among  this  firewood  pieces  adorned 
in  places  with  vermilion,  or  silver  or  gold  leaf.  On 
inquiry,  it  appeared  that  people  in  their  extremity  went 
to  old  temples,  stole  the  images  of  Buddha,  and  broke 
up  the  objects  used  in  worship,  of  which  these  were  the 
fragments.  Such  mournful  spectacles  it  was  my  lot  to 
witness,  born  into  a polluted  and  wicked  world. 

“ Another  very  pitiable  thing  was  that  when  there  were 
a man  and  woman  who  were  strongly  attached  to  each 
other,  the  one  whose  love  was  the  greatest  and  whose 
devotion  was  the  most  profound  always  died  first.  The 
reason  was  that  they  put  themselves  last,  and,  whether 
man  or  woman,  gave  up  to  the  dearly  loved  one  anything 
which  they  might  chance  to  have  begged.  As  a matter 
of  course,  parents  died  before  their  children.  Again, 
infants  might  be  seen  clinging  to  the  breast  of  their 
mother,  not  knowing  that  she  was  already  dead.  A 
priest  of  the  Temple  of  Jisonin,  grieved  in  his  secret 
heart  at  the  numberless  persons  who  were  thus  perish- 


HOJOKI  1 5 1 

ing,  consulted  with  a great  many  holy  men,  who  by  his 
advice,  when  they  saw  any  one  dead,  wrote  on  his 
forehead  the  first  of  the  Chinese  characters  for  Amida 
[Buddha]  and  by  this  bond  united  him  [to  the  Church]. 
The  numbers  of  those  who  died  in  central  Kioto  during 
the  fourth  and  fifth  months  alone  were  42,300.  To  this 
must  be  added  many  who  died  before  and  after ; while  if 
we  also  reckon  those  who  perished  in  the  various  out- 
lying quarters,  the  number  has  no  limit.  And  then  the 
provinces  ! I have  heard  that  in  recent  times  there  was 
a similar  famine  in  the  reign  of  Sutoku,  in  the  period 
Chojo  (1132-1135),  but  of  this  I do  not  know  the  circum- 
stances. What  I have  described  is  the  most  lamentable 
state  of  things  that  I have  myself  witnessed.” 

Chomei  next  describes  the  great  earthquake  at  Kioto 
of  the  year  1185,  in  which,  when  at  its  worst,  there  were 
twenty  or  thirty  shocks  a day,  such  as  would  be  called 
severe  in  ordinary  times.  After  ten  or  twenty  days  the 
shocks  in  one  day  were  two  to  five,  then  one  every  two 
or  three  days.  It  was  not  until  the  third  month  that  the 
earth  had  quite  recovered  its  quiet. 

The  story  of  these  disasters  is  introductory  to  an 
account  of  his  own  life,  and  is  brought  in  to  explain  his 
resolve  to  abandon  the  city  and  to  live  the  life  of  a 
recluse.  He  spent  thirty  years  in  a small  cabin  remote 
from  Kioto,  but  finding  even  this  seclusion  not  suffi- 
ciently restful — 

“ Five  springs  and  autumns,”  he  says,  " came  and  went 
to  me  making  my  bed  among  the  clouds  of  Mount 
Ohara.  And  now  at  sixty,  when  the  dew  does  not 
easily  evaporate,1  I again  built  myself  a last  leaf  of  a 
dwelling,  something  like  the  shelter  which  a traveller 

1 In  other  words,  “sad  thoughts  are  not  easily  shaken  off.” 


152 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


might  erect  for  one  night’s  lodging,  or  the  cocoon  spun 
for  itself  by  an  aged  silkworm.  It  is  not  a hundredth 
part  so  commodious  as  the  habitation  of  my  middle-time. 
As  my  age  declined  with  every  year,  at  each  remove  my 
dwelling  became  smaller.  This  last  one  is  no  ordinary 
house.  It  is  barely  ten  feet  square,  and  only  seven  feet 
high.  As  it  was  not  meant  for  a fixed  abode,  the  ground 
about  it  was  trodden  hard  and  left  uncultivated.  The 
walls  are  of  mud,  and  it  is  thatched  with  rushes.  The 
joints  are  fastened  with  rings  and  staples,  for  the  greater 
convenience  of  removal  elsewhere  if  any  subject  of  dis- 
satisfaction should  arise.  How  little  trouble  it  would 
take  to  rebuild  it  in  another  place  ! It  would  barely 
make  two  cart-loads,  and  there  would  be  no  expense 
whatever  beyond  the  cartage.. 

“ Since  I concealed  my  traces  in  the  recesses  of  Mount 
Hino,  I have  put  up  a projecting  roof  of  some  three  feet 
or  more  in  width  on  the  eastern  side,  as  a place  for 
breaking  and  burning  brushwood.  On  the  south  I have 
set  out  a temporary  shade  and  laid  down  a bamboo 
grating  [by  way  of  a mat].  On  the  west  there  is  the 
domestic  shrine.  Within,  against  the  north,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  a paper  screen,  I have  installed  a picture 
of  Amida,  and  beside  it  have  hung  one  of  Fugen.  Before 
them  I have  placed  a copy  of  the  Hokkekio}  Close  to 
the  eastern  wall  I have  spread  a quantity  of  fern,  which 
serves  me  as  a bed.  On  the  south-west  there  is  provided 
a hanging  shelf  of  bamboo,  on  which  are  three  or  four 
black  leather  cases  containing  Japanese  poetry,  music, 
a Buddhist  pious  book,  and  such-like  manuscripts.  Be- 
sides there  are  a harp  and  a lute  of  the  kinds  known  as 
Origoto  and  Tsugibiwa. 

1 Buddhist  Scriptures. 


HOJOKI 


153 


“Such  is  my  temporary  dwelling.  Now  to  describe 
its  surroundings.  On  the  south  there  is  a water-pipe 
which  leads  to  a reservoir,  constructed  by  piling  large 
stones  one  on  another.  A wood  close  by  affords  plenty 
of  sticks  for  firewood.  The  Masaki  creeper  hides  all 
that  is  beyond.  The  valley  is  thickly  wooded,  but  is 
clear  towards  the  west,  which  is  not  unfavourable  to 
meditation.1 

“ Here  in  spring  there  may  be  seen  the  rippling 
blossoms  of  the  wistaria,  shedding  a fragrance  towards 
the  west.  In  summer  the  Hototogisu2  is  heard,  who  by 
his  reiterated  cry  invites  to  a tryst  with  him  on  that 
rugged  path  which  leads  to  Hades.  In  autumn  the  song 
of  the  cicada  fills  the  ears,  sounding  like  a wail  over  the 
vanities  of  this  earthly  existence.  In  winter  the  snow 
excites  in  me  a sympathetic  emotion.  As  it  grows 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  then  by  degrees  melts  away 
again,  it  is  an  apt  symbol  of  the  obstruction  of  sin. 

“When  I am  too  sad  for  prayer,  or  cannot  fix  my 
mind  on  the  pages  of  holy  writ,  there  is  no  one  to  pre- 
vent me  from  resting  and  being  as  indolent  as  I please, 
nor  is  there  any  friend  in  whose  presence  I might  feel 
ashamed.  Though  I have  not  specially  adopted  silence 
as  my  rule,  living  alone  as  I do,  the  faculty  of  speech 
has  naturally  been  suspended.  With  no  definite  resolve 
to  observe  the  commandments,  my  circumstances  are 
such  that  there  is  no  temptation  to  break  them.  When 
at  morn  I approach  the  white  waves  of  the  lake,  I feel 
as  if  I had  stolen  the  sentiments  of  the  novice  Mansei 
when  he  gazed  on  the  boats  passing  to  and  from 
Okanoya  [and  compared  human  life  to  the  ripples  left 

1 In  the  west  is  India,  the  native  place  of  Buddhism. 

2 A kind  of  cuckoo. 


154 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


in  their  wake] ; when  at  evening  the  cassia  wind  rustles 
the  leaves,  I think  of  the  estuary  of  Junyo  and  imitate 
the  style  of  Gen  Totoku.  When  more  cheerful  than 
usual  I extol  the  music  of  the  autumn  wind  to  the  ac- 
companiment of  its  song  among  the  firs,  or  to  the  sound 
of  water  join  my  praises  of  the  music  of  the  running 
stream.  I do  not  pretend  to  anything  great  in  music, 
and  I sing  or  play  all  by  myself,  only  for  the  comfort  of 
my  own  heart,  and  not  for  the  entertainment  of  others. 

“ At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  there  is  another  cabin, 
built  of  brushwood,  where  a forester  lives.  He  has  a 
son  who  sometimes  comes  to  see  me.  When  I am  dull 
I take  him  for  a walk,  and  although  there  is  a great 
difference  in  our  ages,  he  being  sixteen  and  I sixty,  we 
both  enjoy  the  same  pleasures.  We  pluck  the  great 
rush  flowers  or  gather  cranberries.  We  fill  our  baskets 
with  wild  potatoes  or  collect  parsley.  Sometimes  we  go 
down  to  the  rice-fields  in  the  belt  of  ground  at  the  bottom 
of  the  mountain  and  glean  the  fallen  ears.  In  serene 
weather  we  climb  to  the  summit  and  view  from  afar  the 
sky  over  my  native  place.  Hence  we  can  see  Kowata- 
yama,  Fushimi,  Toba,  and  Hatsukase.  Fine  scenery  is 
not  private  property,  and  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  me 
from  enjoying  it.  With  no  toilsome  journey  on  foot, 
my  mind  flies  afar  along  the  range  of  mountain  peaks. 
I cross  Mount  Sumi,  I pass  beyond  Karadori,  I make  a 
pilgrimage  to  Iwama,  I worship  at  Ishiyama,  or  else  I 
thread  my  way  over  the  plain  of  Awadzu,  and  pay  my 
respects  to  the  remains  of  the  old  Semimaru  [a  famous 
musician]  ; I cross  the  river  Tagami,  and  visit  the  tomb 
of  Sarumaru  Dayu  [a  poet]. 

“ On  our  way  home  we  break  off  the  cherry  branches, 
or  gather  the  red  autumn  foliage ; we  pluck  the  young 


HOJOKI 


155 


shoots  of  the  bracken,  or  pick  up  nuts  according  to  the 
season.  Some  of  these  are  offered  to  Buddha,  and  some 
are  taken  as  presents  [to  my  companion’s  family]. 

“ When  on  a calm  night  the  moon  shines  in  at  my 
window,  I think  with  yearning  of  the  men  of  old,  and 
at  the  cry  of  the  monkeys  my  sleeve  is  wetted  with  tears. 
The  fire-flies  in  the  clumps  of  herbage  represent  to  me 
the  fishermen’s  cressets  on  the  isle  of  Magi  no  Shima  ; 
the  rain  at  daybreak  sounds  to  me  like  the  leaves  when 
fluttered  by  a stormy  gust  of  wind.  When  I hear  the 
copper  pheasant  with  his  cry  of  ‘ horo,  horo,’  I wonder 
whether  it  is  my  father  or  my  mother.1  When  the  stag 
from  the  mountain  top  approaches  without  shyness,  I 
realise  how  far  I am  separated  from  the  world. 

“ When  I first  took  up  my  abode  in  this  place,  I thought 
it  was  only  for  a little  while.  But  five  years  have  passed 
and  my  temporary  hut  has  become  old.  Under  the 
eaves  there  is  a deep  bed  of  withered  leaves,  and  moss 
has  gathered  on  the  earthen  floor.  When  by  chance  I 
receive  news  of  the  capital,  I hear  of  the  deaths  of  many 
men  of  high  rank,  while  of  those  of  men  of  low  degree 
it  is  impossible  to  reckon  the  number.  I hear  too  of 
many  houses  being  destroyed  by  frequent  conflagra- 
tions. But  this  temporary  cabin  of  mine  has  remained 
secure  and  undisturbed.  It  is  small,  but  at  night  I have 
a bed  to  lie  upon,  in  the  daytime  a mat  on  which  I sit. 
It  has  all  that  is  needed  for  the  lodging  of  one  person. 

“ Buddha  has  taught  mankind  not  to  allow7  their  hearts 
to  become  enslaved  by  outwrard  things.  Even  my  love 
for  this  thatched  cabin  is  to  be  reckoned  a transgres- 

1 Referring  to  a poem  in  which  the  doctrine  of  transmigration  is  alluded  to. 


156  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

sion ; even  my  lying  down  to  quiet  rest  must  be  a 
hindrance  to  piety.  How  can  any  one  waste  precious 
time  in  a continuous  indulgence  in  useless  pleasure  ? 
One  calm  morning  I thought  long  over  the  reasons  of 
this,  and  asked  of  my  own  heart  the  question — ‘The 
object  of  leaving  the  world  and  making  companions 
of  the  hills  and  woods  is  to  give  peace  to  the  mind, 
and  to  enable  us  to  carry  out  the  practices  of  religion. 
But  though  your  outward  appearance  is  that  of  a holy 
man,  your  heart  is  steeped  in  impurity.  Your  dwelling 
is  an  unworthy  imitation  of  that  of  Jomyo,  but  in 
observance  you  fall  behind  even  Shuri  and  Bandoku. 
Is  this  a natural  affliction,  inseparable  from  a mean 
condition,  or  is  it  due  to  the  disorderly  passions  of  an 
impure  heart  V To  this  my  heart  made  no  answer. 
A few  unbidden  invocations  of  the  name  of  Buddha  rose 
to  my  lips,  and  then — silence. 

“Written  in  my  hut  at  Toyama,  the  second  year  of 
Kenriaku  (a.d.  1212),  the  last  day  of  the  third  month, 
by  me  the  monk  Renin." 1 

Some  editions  add  the  following  pious  Tanka  : — 

“ The  moon  is  gone — 

A cruel  mountam-spur 
Where  late  she  shone  : 

Oh  ! that  my  soul  had  sight 
Of  the  unfailing  light T 

Chdmei  is  also  the  author  of  a collection  of  short  essays 
entitled  Mumiosho  (“  Anonymous  Selection  ”),  mostly 
relating  to  poetical  subjects,  and  of  the  Shiki  (“Four 
Seasons")  Monogatari , descriptive  of  court  functions 
throughout  the  year. 


1 Chomei’s  name  as  a Buddhist  monk. 


IZAYOI  NO  KI 


157 


Several  diaries  and  journals  of  travel  have  come  down 
to  us  from  the  Kamakura  period.  The  Izayoi  no  Ki  is 
the  best  known  of  these.  It  was  written  by  a lady 
called  Abutsu,  a name  which  indicates  that  she  had 
taken  Buddhist  vows.  She  was  a descendant  of  one  of 
the  Mikados,  and  the  widow  of  a son  of  the  Fujiwara  no 
Sadaiye  who  edited  the  Hiakunin-is-shiu.  The  diary  was 
composed  on  a journey  which  she  took  to  Kamakura 
in  1277  to  obtain  justice  for  her  son  Tamesuke  against 
an  elder  brother  by  a different  mother,  who  had  usurped 
one  of  the  family  estates. 

The  Izayoi  no  Ki  is  a highly  sentimental  journey  in- 
terspersed plentifully  with  Tanka.  The  following  short 
passage  may  suffice  as  a specimen  : — 

“ 26th  day.  We  crossed  a river,  which  I believe  is 
called  the  Warashina,  and  proceeded  to  the  shore  of 
Okitsu.  I remembered  the  poem  which  says,  ‘the 
moonshine  behind  me  as  I took  my  way  with  tears.’ 
At  the  place  where  we  made  our  mid-day  halt  there 
was  a queer  little  pillow  cf  boxwood.  I lay  down 
quite  exhausted,  and  finding  an  ink-stone  there,  wrote, 
as  I lay,  the  following  on  the  paper  slides  close  to  my 
pillow : — 

5 Twas  an  experience 
Scarce  worth  remembering. 

Tell  it  ?iot  to  the  world , 

O thou  chance  pillow  ! 

Nor  say  that  I have  bound  myself  ” 

Musubi-okitsuy  which  means  “ to  bind  oneself  down,” 
also  contains  the  name  of  the  place  where  the  author 
was  stopping.  The  verse  is  obviously  composed  simply 
for  the  sake  of  this  pun,  and  contains  no  record  of 
any  actual  personal  experience. 


58 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“As  it  became  dusk  we  passed  Kiyomigaseki.  The 
waves  breaking  over  the  rocks  looked  as  if  they  were 
clothing  them  in  white  robes — a very  pretty  sight ! 

Ye  ancient  rocks 
On  the  shore  of  Kiyomi  ! 

A question  let  me  ask  of  you — 

How  many  suits  have  you  put  on 
Of  wet  wave-garments  ? ” 

[“Wet  garments'’  is  a metaphorical  expression  for 
unmerited  blame  or  punishment]. 

“ Presently  it  became  dark,  and  we  put  up  for  the 
night  in  a village  in  that  neighbourhood  which  stood 
close  by  the  sea.  From  somewhere  near,  there  came  a 
smoke  of  burning,  the  smell  of  which  was  very  noisome. 
It  was  no  doubt  caused  by  something  the  fishermen 
were  doing.  It  brought  to  my  mind  the  words,  * the 
rank  odours  of  my  nightly  lodging.’ 

“The  wind  was  very  boisterous  all  night  long,  and 
the  waves  seemed  breaking  in  tumult  over  my  pillow." 

The  next  passage  relates  to  Fujisan.  It  appears 
from  it  that  in  the  author's  day  the  smoke  from  this 
mountain  was  intermittent.  It  has  long  ago  quite 
ceased  to  rise. 

The  style  of  the  Izayoi  no  Ki  is  very  different  from 
that  of  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  or  Heike  Monogatai'i.  It 
is  comparatively  free  from  Chinese  elements,  and  reads 
more  like  a work  of  the  Heian  period.  The  author 
has  evidently  taken  the  Tosa  Nikki  for  her  model. 

Abutsu  also  published  a volume  of  critical  essays  on 
poetry,  called  Vo  no  Tsuru  (“The  Crane  in  the  Night"), 
and  other  less  important  writings. 

The  Ben  no  Naiji  Nikki , also  by  a woman,  is  a diary 
of  incidents  which  occurred  between  1246  and  1252. 


POETRY 


59 


Poetry 

The  manufacture  of  Tanka  at  the  court  of  Kioto  con- 
tinued during  this  period.  Several  collections  of  verses 
prepared  under  official  auspices  were  the  result ; but, 
as  they  contain  little  which  is  characteristic,  it  is  need- 
less to  dwell  upon  them.  The  poetry  of  this  time 
deserves  mention  chiefly  as  an  indication  that  culture 
was  not  wholly  neglected  during  what  was  in  the  main 
a benighted  age. 

It  was  now  that  the  practice  began  of  making 
anthologies  of  Tanka  consisting  of  one  specimen  each 
of  one  hundred  different  authors.  These  are  called 
Hiaku-nin-is-shiu . The  original  collection  of  this  kind, 
which  contains  Tanka  from  the  seventh  to  the  thirteenth 
centuries,  is  at  this  day  in  the  hands  of  every  Japanese 
schoolgirl.  It  was  compiled  about  1235  by  a court 
noble  named  Sadaiye,  one  of  the  great  Fujiwara  clan, 
which  at  this  time  had  almost  a monopoly  of  Japanese 
poetry.  It  has  been  translated  into  English  by  Mr.  F. 
V.  Dickins. 

A new  metre  appeared  during  this  period,  which 
took  the  place  of  the  older  Naga-uta.  It  is  called 
Ima-yo  or  “ present  fashion/'  and  consists  of  alternate 
phrases  of  seven  and  five  syllables.  This  arrangement 
is  more  or  less  closely  approximated  to  in  the  poetical 
passages  which  now  begin  to  occur  in  prose  works. 

Books  in  Chinese 

The  works  written  in  Chinese  during  the  Kamakura 
period  bear  witness  to  the  general  decay  of  learning. 
They  are  composed  in  a species  of  bad  Chinese  which 


1 60  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

may  aptly  be  compared  to  the  barbarous  Latin  of  the 
Middle  Ages  ip  Europe. 

The  most  important  is  the  Adzuma-Kagami  or  “ Mirror 
of  the  East/’  a history  of  Japan  from  1180  till  1266. 
Invaluable  as  a mine  of  historical  information,  its  literary 
worth  is  but  small.  It  is  one  of  those  dry  chronicles 
in  which  events  are  jotted  down  month  by  month  and 
day  by  day  without  any  attempt  to  show  their  con- 
nection. 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH 


NAMBOKU-CHO  (1332-1392)  AND  MUROMACHI 
(1392-1603)  PERIODS 

(DARK  AGE") 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH 


NAMBOKU-CHO  (1332-1392)  AND  MUROMACHI 
' (1392-1603)  PERIODS 

* (DARK  AGE) 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTORY—' “ JINKOSHOTOKI 
“ TAIHEIKI ” 

Towards  the  end  of  the  Kamakura  period  the  mis- 
government  of  the  Hojo  regents,  who  were  to  the 
Shoguns  what  the  Shoguns  had  been  to  the  Mikados,  was 
the  cause  of  general  discontent ; and  when  a Mikado  of 
resolute  character  came  to  the  throne,  the  opportunity 
seemed  favourable  for  casting  off  the  domination  of  the 
military  caste.  At  the  court  of  Kioto  there  had  always 
been  a strong  undercurrent  of  intrigue  directed  against 
the  Shoguns’  authority,  and  that  of  the  regents  who  ruled 
in  their  name.  The  Mikado  Go  Daigo  was  the  first  who 
thought  himself  strong  enough  to  take  bolder  measures. 
After  a desperate  struggle,  and  many  vicissitudes  of  for- 
tune, his  enterprise  was  partially  successful.  It  resulted 
in  the  establishment  of  two  Mikados,  who  reigned  simul- 
taneously— one,  the  creature  of  the  Shoguns,  occupying 
the  old  capital  of  Kioto  ; while  the  second  held  his  court 

163 


164 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


at  Yoshino  and  other  places  in  the  province  of  Yamato, 
and  enjoyed  a somewhat  precarious  independence.  This 
system,  known  in  Japanese  history  as  the  Nam-boku-cho 
(Southern  and  Northern  Courts),  was  put  an  end  to  by 
the  reunion  of  the  two  lines  in  the  person  of  Go  Komatsu 
(1392),  after  a prolonged  series  of  intestine  troubles.  A 
new  dynasty  of  Shoguns,  the  Ashikaga  House,  was  by 
this  time  established  at  Muromachi,  in  Kioto,  a place 
which  gave  its  name  to  the  next  period  of  Japanese 
history.  It  remained  in  power  until  1603,  when  the 
Shdgunate,  having  again  changed  hands,  was  transferred 
a second  time  to  the  east  of  Japan. 

The  270  years  covered  by  these  two  periods  were  sin- 
gularly barren  of  important  literature  in  Japan.  One  or 
two  quasi-historical  works,  a charming  volume  of  essays, 
and  a few  hundred  short  dramatic  sketches  (the  No)  are 
all  that  deserve  more  than  a passing  notice. 

“ JlNKOSHOTOKI  ” 

The  author  of  the  Jinkoshdtoki  was  a statesman  and 
soldier  named  Kitabatake  Chikafusa,  who  acted  an 
important  part  in  the  civil  wars  which  disturbed  Japan 
during  the  first  half  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

Chikafusa  was  descended  from  a prince  of  the  Imperial 
family.  He  was  born  in  1293,  and  held  various  offices  in 
the  early  part  of  Go  Daigo’s  reign,  but  on  the  death  of  a 
prince  to  whom  he  was  attached  he  shaved  his  head  and 
retired  from  public  life.  In  1333,  when  the  Emperor  Go 
Daigo  returned  from  the  island  of  Oki,  whither  he  had 
been  banished  by  the  Kamakura  Government,  Chikafusa 
was  persuaded  again  to  take  office,  and  distinguished  him- 
self greatly  in  the  wars  which  followed.  The  eminent 


CHIKAFUSA 


services  he  had  rendered  to  the  cause  of  the  Southern 
Court  by  his  sword,  his  pen,  and  his  counsel,  were  recog- 
nised in  1351  by  the  highest  honours  which  his  sovereign 
could  bestow.  He  died  a few  years  later. 

The  Jinkosholoki  is  Chikafusa's  principal  work.  His 
object  in  writing  it  is  indicated  by  the  title,  which 
means  “ History  of  the  True  Succession  of  the  Divine 
Monarchs.”  It  was  composed  in  order  to  show  that  the 
Mikados  of  the  Southern  Court,  whose  minister  he  was, 
were  the  rightful  sovereigns  of  Japan.  This  explains  the 
prominence  which  he  gives  to  matters  affecting  the 
authenticity  of  the  Mikado's  claims  to  the  throne,  such 
as  the  history  of  the  regalia,  genealogies,  questions  of 
disputed  succession,  and  the  like. 

It  was  written  in  the  reign  of  Go  Murakami  (1339-1345). 
The  first  of  the  six  volumes  of  which  it  consists  is  purely 
mythical.  It  begins  literally  ab  ovo  with  the  egg-shaped 
chaotic  mass  from  which  heaven  and  earth  were  deve- 
loped. Then  we  have  an  account  of  the  creation  of  Japan 
by  the  male  and  female  deities  Izanagi  and  Izanami,  taken 
partly  from  the  Nihongi , but  mixed  up  with  Chinese 
philosophy  and  Indian  mythical  cosmography  in  the 
strangest  manner.  The  descent  of  the  Mikados  from  the 
Sun-goddess,  who  in  Japan  is  the  daughter  of  the  divine 
creator  pair,  is  then  traced  with  . due  attention  through  a 
series  of  deities  down  to  Jimmu  Tenno,  who  is  reckoned 
the  first  human  sovereign  of  Japan. 

The  next  four  volumes  are  a resume,  necessarily  brief 
and  meagre,  of  the  history  of  Japan  from  Jimmu  Tenno 
(who  came  to  the  throne,  according  to  the  ordinary 
Japanese  chronology,  in  B.C.  660)  down  to  the  accession 
of  Fushimi  in  A.D.  1288. 

The  sixth  volume  deals  with  the  history  of  Chikafusa’s 
12 


1 66 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


own  time.  It  is  very  disappointing.  Although  the  writer 
and  his  sons  took  a prominent  part  in  the  fighting  and 
politics  of  their  day,  Chikafusa  has  not  thought  proper  to 
give  more  than  a short  and  bald  account  of  the  events  in 
which  he  was  a principal  actor.  Most  of  this  volume  is 
taken  up  with  dissertations  on  the  principles  of  govern- 
ment, which,  however  necessary  for  a comprehension  of 
the  motives  and  ideas  of  Japanese  statesmen  under  the 
old  regime,  are  not  very  interesting  to  the  European 
reader. 

By  his  own  countrymen  Chikafusa  has  been  much 
lauded  as  an  exponent  of  the  Chinese  type  of  political 
philosophy.  Even  modern  critics  bestow  on  him  a lavish 
praise  which  to  us  seems  hardly  deserved.  His  writings 
certainly  contain  evidences  of  statesman-like  capacity,  as 
for  example  his  condemnation  of  sinecures  and  mortmain 
grants  to  ecclesiastical  foundations  ; and  if  there  is  also 
much  that  we  are  inclined  to  set  down  as  mere  platitudes, 
it  is  fair  to  remember  that  Chikafusa  was  the  first  Japanese 
writer  who  attempted  to  apply  philosophical  principles 
to  actual  politics,  and  that  what  seems  trite  to  us  may 
have  appeared  novel  and  striking  to  contemporary 
readers. 

The  style  of  the  Jinkoshotoki  is  simple  and  unpreten- 
tious. Its  value  as  literature  is  small  in  proportion  to  the 
political  influence  which  it  has  exercised.  Not  only  was 
the  cause  of  which  the  author  was  a devoted  champion 
substantially  furthered  by  its  publication,  but  it  has  also 
left  its  mark  on  later  times.  Chikafusa’s  patriotic  senti- 
ments and  his  loyalty  to  the  de  jure  sovereign  of  his 
country  had  a large  share,  directly,  or  filtered  down 
through  the  works  of  writers  who  derived  their  inspira- 
tion from  him,  in  forming  the  public  feeling  and  opinion 


CHIKAFUSA  167 

which  led  to  the  restoration  of  the  Mikado's  power  in  our 
own  day. 

He  is  one  of  the  few  writers  of  this  class  who  do  not 
indulge  in  Tanka. 

The  following  extracts  will  give  some  idea  of  the  quality 
of  Chikafusa’s  political  reasonings  : — 

“Great  Yamato  is  a divine  country.  It  is  only  our 
land  whose  foundations  were  first  laid  by  the  divine 
ancestor.  It  alone  has  been  transmitted  by  the  Sun 
Goddess  to  a long  line  of  her  descendants.  There  is 
nothing  of  this  kind  in  foreign  countries.  Therefore  it 
is  called  the  divine  land." 

“ It  is  only  our  country  which,  from  the  time  that 
heaven  and  earth  were  first  unfolded  until  this  very  day, 
has  preserved  the  succession  to  the  throne  intact  in  one 
single  family.  Even  when,  as  sometimes  naturally  hap- 
pened, it  descended  to  a lateral  branch,  it  was  held  in 
accordance  with  just  principles.  This  shows  that  the 
august  oath  of  the  gods  [to  preserve  the  succession]  is 
ever  renewed  in  a way  which  distinguishes  Japan  from 
all  other  countries." 

“There  are  matters  in  the  way  of  the  gods  [the  Shinto 
religion]  which  it  is  difficult  to  expound.  Nevertheless, 
if  we  do  not  know  the  origin  of  things,  the  result  is 
necessarily  confusion.  To  remedy  this  evil  I have  jotted 
down  a few  observations  showing  how  the  succession 
from  the  age  of  the  gods  has  been  governed  by  reason, 
and  have  taken  no  pains  to  produce  an  ordinary  history. 
This  work  may  therefore  be  entitled  ' History  of  the  True 
Succession  of  Divine  Monarchs.' " 

“The  man  devotes  himself  to  husbandry,  providing 


1 68  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

food  for  himself  and  others,  and  thus  warding  off  hunger  ; 
the  woman  attends  to  spinning,  thereby  clothing  herself 
and  also  making  others  warm.  These  may  seem  mean 
offices,  but  it  is  on  them  that  the  structure  of  human 
society  rests.  They  are  in  accordance  with  the  seasons 
of  heaven,  and  depend  on  the  benefits  drawn  from 
earth. 

“ Others  are  skilled  in  deriving  gain  from  commerce ; 
while  others,  again,  prefer  the  practice  of  the  mechanic 
arts,  or  have  the  ambition  to  become  officials.  These 
are  what  are  called  the  1 four  classes  of  the  people/ 

il  Of  officials  there  are  two  classes — the  civil  and  the 
military.  The  method  of  the  civil  official  is  to  remain 
at  home  and  reason  upon  the  right  way,  wherein,  if  he 
attains  to  lucidity,  he  may  rise  to  be  a Minister  of  State. 
It  is  the  business  of  the  soldier,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
render  service  in  warlike  expeditions,  wherein,  if  he  gains 
fame,  he  may  become  a general.  Therefore  these  two 
professions  ought  not  to  be  neglected  for  a moment.  It 
has  been  said,  1 In  times  of  civil  disorder,  arms  are  placed 
to  the  right  and  letters  to  the  left ; in  peace,  letters  are 
put  to  the  right  and  arms  to  the  left.' " 

11  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  born  on  the  Imperial  soil 
to  yield  devoted  loyalty  to  his  sovereign,  even  to  the  sacri- 
fice of  his  own  life.  Let  no  one  suppose  for  a moment 
that  there  is  any  credit  due  to  him  for  so  doing.  Never- 
theless, in  order  to  stimulate  the  zeal  of  those  who  come 
after,  and  in  loving  memory  of  the  dead,  it  is  the  business 
of  the  ruler  to  grant  rewards  in  such  cases  [to  the  chil- 
dren]. Those  who  are  in  an  inferior  position  should  not 
enter  into  rivalry  with  them.  Still  more  should  those 
who  have  done  no  specially  meritorious  service  abstain 


CHIKAFUSA 


169 

from  inordinate  ambitions.  It  is  a truly  blessed  principle 
to  observe  the  rut  of  the  chariot  which  has  preceded,  at 
whatever  risk  to  our  own  safety  [that  is,  a conservative 
policy  should  be  maintained  at  all  hazards]/’ 

“ I have  already  touched  in  several  places  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  statesmanship.  They  are  based  on  justice  and 
mercy,  in  the  dispensing  of  which  firm  action  is  requisite. 
Such  is  the  clear  instruction  vouchsafed  to  us  by  Ten- 
shodaijin  [the  Sun  Goddess].  Firm  action  is  displayed  in 
various  ways.  Firstly,  in  the  choice  of  men  for  official 
positions.  Japan  and  China  both  agree  that  the  basis  of 
good  government  consists  in  the  sovereign  finding  the 
right  man  and  bestowing  his  favour  on  him.  Secondly, 
in  excluding  private  motives  from  the  distribution  of 
appointments  to  provinces  and  districts.  This  should  be 
done  on  grounds  of  reason  only.  Thirdly,  firm  action  is 
shown  in  the  reward  of  merit  and  the  punishment  of 
crime.  By  this  means  encouragement  is  given  to  virtue, 
and  wickedness  is  repressed.  If  any  of  these  three  things 
is  neglected,  we  have  what  is  called  bad  government.” 

“ Sinecures  and  jobbery  in  the  matter  of  promotions 
are  steps  towards  the  downfall  of  the  State,  and  fatal  to 
the  permanence  of  the  royal  office.” 

Another  work  by  Chikafusa  is  the  Gengenshiu , in  eight 
volumes.  It  contains  a resume  of  the  myths  which  are 
articles  of  the  Shinto  faith. 

Like  the  Jinkdshotdkiy  the  celebrated  work  named 
Taiheiki  is  a history  of  the  attempts  of  the  Mikado  Go 
Daigo  to  shake  off  the  domination  of  the  “ Eastern  Bar- 
barians,” as  the  Kamakura  Shoguns  and  their  adherents 


170 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


were  called,  and  of  the  civil  wars  arising  out  of  these 
enterprises  which  distracted  Japan  for  more  than  forty 
years. 

The  edition  entitled  Taiheiki  Sdmoku  has  an  introduc- 
tion purporting  to  relate  the  circumstances  under  which 
this  work  was  compiled,  on  the  authority  of  a “tradition,” 
the  sources  of  which  are  unknown  to  us.  Begun,  it  is 
said,  at  the  instance  of  the  Mikado  Go  Daigo,  by  a 
priest  named  Genye,  it  was  continued  by  other  priests 
at  various  times,  until  its  completion  in  1382.  These 
writers,  we  are  told,  based  their  narratives  on  infor- 
mation obtained  directly  from  the  Shdgun  Takauji, 
Nitta  Yoshisada,  Kusunoki  Masashige,  and  other  chief 
actors  in  the  political  events  of  the  day.  Recent  inves- 
tigation, however,  seems  to  show  that  the  author  was 
really  a priest  named  Kojima,  probably  belonging  to  one 
of  the  three  thousand  monasteries  of  Hiyeisan,  who  died 
in  1374,  but  of  whom  nothing  further  is  known.  If  this 
be  correct,  either  the  former  account  is  an  imposture,  of 
which  there  are  not  a few  in  the  literary  annals  of  Japan, 
or  Kojima  may  have  utilised  materials  collected  in  the 
manner  just  described.  Internal  evidence  points  to  the 
Taiheiki  being  the  work  of  one  person  who  wrote  some 
time  after  the  events  related,  and  who  owed  much  more 
to  his  imagination  than  to  direct  communication  with  the 
heroes  of  his  story. 

It  begins  with  a sketch  of  the  history  of  the  Shogunate 
from  its  foundation  by  Yoritomo  in  1181,  and  then  goes 
on  to  describe  the  political  condition  of  Japan  at  the 
accession  of  Go  Daigo  in  1319.  The  events  of  this  reign, 
which  ended  in  1339,  are  given  in  considerable  detail, 
and  the  work  is  continued  to  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Go 
Murakami  (1368). 


TAIHEIKI 


171 

The  Taiheiki , as  it  has  come  down  to  us,  contains 
several  chapters  which  have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with 
the  general  plan  of  the  work,  and  look  very  like  inter- 
polations by  some  later  writer.  Such  are  the  chapters 
on  “ Rebellions  in  Japan,"  on  the  conquest  of  Yamato  by 
Jimmu  Tenno,  on  the  Corean  expedition  of  Jingo  Kogu, 
and  on  the  Mongol  invasion  of  Japan  by  Kublai  Khan. 
The  addenda  in  the  Somoku  edition  form,  of  course,  no 
part  of  the  original  work. 

Taiheiki  or  “ Record  of  Great  Peace  " is  a strange 
name  for  the  history  of  one  of  the  most  disturbed 
periods  that  Japan  has  ever  passed  through.  It  presents 
a succession  of  intrigues,  treasons,  secret  conspiracies, 
and  open  warfare,  with  wholesale  sentences  of  death  or 
banishment.  This  was  not,  however,  the  original  name 
of  the  work.  It  was  at  first  called  Anki  Yuraiki  or 
“ Record  of  the  Causes  of  Peace  and  Danger."  Another 
name  for  it  was  Kokuka  Jiranki , or  “ Record  of  the  Cure 
of  Civil  Disturbance  in  the  State."  These  last  titles  rather 
suggest  a philosophical  history.  But  the  Taiheiki  is  very 
much  the  reverse  of  this.  It  is  clearly  the  work,  not  of 
a statesman  or  philosopher,  but  of  a literary  man  intent 
on  producing  an  ornate  and  romantic  story.  So  long  as 
this  end  is  attained,  fact  and  fiction  are  to  him  very  much 
alike.  It  is  difficult  to  say  which  predominates  in  his 
narrative.  He  is  notoriously  inaccurate  in  such  matters 
as  numbers,  dates,  and  genealogies ; but  that  is  nothing  to 
the  way  in  which  he  embroiders  his  accounts  of  sieges 
and  battles  with  details  that  cannot  possibly  have  been 
handed  down  by  eye-witnesses,  and  to  the  dreams, 
portents,  and  miraculous  occurrences  with  which  his 
story  abounds.  There  are  also  numerous  speeches, 
apparently  adapted  by  him  to  the  speaker  and  the 


172 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


occasion,  but  which,  like  those  in  Thucydides,  have 
nevertheless  a certain  historical  value.  The  serious  way 
in  which  the  commentators  treat  the  Taiheiki  s frequent 
excursions  into  the  land  of  romance  is  not  a little 
amusing. 

The  style  of  Kojirna  (if  he  is  the  author)  has  been 
condemned  by  native  critics  as  inflated  and  pedantic. 
It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  not  a little  truth  in 
these  charges.  The  Taiheiki  supplies  abundant  evidence 
of  his  erudition  and  command  of  all  the  resources  of 
Chinese  and  Japanese  rhetoric.  His  pages  at  times  are 
highly  charged  with  Chinese  words  and  phrases,  and 
fairly  bristle  with  Chinese  historical  allusions  and 
quotations.  In  this  style  of  writing,  a “ bamboo  grove  ” 
means  a family  of  princes,  a “ pepper  court  ” is  put  for 
the  Imperial  harem,  “ cloud  guests”  stand  for  courtiers, 
the  Mikado's  carriage  is  termed  the  “ Phoenix  Car,”  and 
his  face  the  “ Dragon  Countenance.”  A fair  lady  is  said 
to  put  to  shame  Mao  Ts'iang  and  Si  She,  famous  beauties 
of  Chinese  antiquity.  Civil  war  is  a time  when  “ wolf- 
smoke  obscures  the  heaven,  and  whale-waves  shake  the 
earth.”  Kojirna  does  not  hesitate  even  to  insert  long 
episodes  of  Chinese  and  Indian  history  which  present 
some  resemblance  to  the  events  which  he  is  describing, 
especially  if  they  lend  themselves  to  romantic  treatment. 

Still  more  trying  to  the  ordinary  Western  reader  than 
his  ostentatious  display  .of  Chinese  learning  is  the 
Buddhist  theology  in  which  Kojirna  was  plainly  well 
versed,  and  of  which  there  is  more  than  enough  in  the 
Taiheiki.  Students  of  the  history  of  religion,  however, 
will  find  this  feature  of  the  work  interesting.  Kojirna  is 
a typical  case  which  illustrates  the  national  propensity 
for  compromise  and  arrangement  in  matters  of  faith.  In 


TAIHEIKI 


173 


the  Taiheiki  he  makes  an  attempt  to  reconcile  three 
essentially  conflicting  systems,  viz.,  Chinese  philosophy, 
Shinto  mythology,  and  Buddhism,  including  with  the 
latter  the  older  Indian  myths  which  found  their  way  to 
Japan  in  its  company.  Thus  in  a passage  near  the  end 
of  Book  XVI.  he  describes  the  Yin  and  Yang  (the 
negative  and  positive  principles  of  nature  according  to 
the  Chinese)  as  the  origin  and  source  of  all  things. 
These  two  elements  by  their  mutual  interaction  evolve 
Izanagi  and  Izanami,  the  creator  deities  of  the  Shinto 
Pantheon.  Their  child  Tenshodaijin  (the  Sun  Goddess) 
proves  to  be  a manifestation  of  Buddha,  one  of  whose 
services  to  humanity  was  at  some  far  remote  period  to 
subdue  the  “ Evil  Kings  of  the  Six  Heavens”  of  Indian 
myth,  and  compel  them  to  withdraw  their  opposition  to 
the  spread  of  the  true  doctrine  (that  is,  Buddhism)  in 
Japan.  ^ 

Kojima,  however,  does  not  always  draw  his  inspiration 
from  China  or  from  theology.  Like  the  Heike  Monoga- 
tari , the  Taiheiki  contains  a number  of  highly  poetical 
passages  which  owe  nothing  to  foreign  models  or  ideas. 
In  metre  they  resemble  Naga-uta,  except  that  the  order 
of  the  alternation  of  five  and  seven  syllable  phrases  is 
reversed.  Words  of  Chinese  origin  are  not  wholly 
excluded.  One  of  these  passages  describes  the  enforced 
journey  of  Toshimoto,  an  adherent  of  the  Mikado  Go 
Daigo,  to  Kamakura,  where  he  was  executed  for  treason 
to  the  Shogunate  ; and  another,  that  of  the  same  Mikado, 
to  an  exile  in  the  island  of  Oki.  The  names  of  places 
along  the  route  are  ingeniously  woven  into  the  narrative 
in  such  a way  as  to  suggest  reflections  suitable  to  the 
circumstances.  This  feature  of  the  Taiheiki  has  had  an 
enormous  influence  on  the  work  of  the  dramatists  and 


174 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


novelists  of  the  Yedo  period,  as  is  shown  by  the  nume- 
rous direct  imitations  of  the  passages  just  described 
(known  as  michiyuki  or  “ journeys"),  and  by  the 
rhythmical  swing  of  the  alternation  of  seven  and  five 
syllable  phrases,  due  to  its  example,  which  pervades  so 
much  of  the  subsequent  popular  literature. 

Europeans  who  propose  to  take  up  the  study  of  the 
Taiheiki  will  be  glad  to  learn  that  there  still  remains  a 
good  deal  of  straightforward,  business-like  narrative, 
which,  though  not  without  occasional  florid  phrases 
and  picturesque  touches,  is  laudably  free  from  recondite 
allusions  and  obscure  metaphors,  perplexing  to  the  un- 
learned, and  condemned  as  pedantic  even  by  those  who 
understand  them. 

The  language  of  the  Taiheiki  is  very  different  from 
that  of  the  writings  of  the  Heian  period.  Simpler 
forms  are  substituted  for  the  older,  more  elaborate 
grammatical  structure,  and  the  vocabulary  is  . enriched 
by  the  accession  of  a vast  number  of  Chinese  words, 
which  no  longer,  as  formerly,  are  only  admitted  to 
the  literature  after  a time  of  probation  in  the  collo- 
quial speech,  but  are  taken  straight  from  Chinese 
books. 

The  importance  of  the  Taiheiki  in  the  history  of 
Japanese  literature  is  far  greater  than  its  intrinsic  merits 
would  lead  us  to  expect.  More  than  any  other  work 
it  is  the  foundation  of  the  modern  literary  style,  and 
its  good  and  bad  qualities  generally  are  reflected  in 
the  writings  of  a host  of  imitators,  direct  or  indirect. 

The  events  and  personages  which  it  describes  are 
the  themes  of  a very  large  share  of  the  modern  litera- 
ture of  Japan,  and  allusions  to  it  are  continually  met 
with.  Its  popularity  is  further  testified  to  by  the  fact 


TAIHEIKI 


75 


that  there  sprang  iip  at  Yedo  and  Kioto  a distinct 
class  of  professors  who  earned  a living  by  giving  Tai- 
heiki  readings.  They  correspond  to  the  biwa-bonzes 
who  chanted  the  Heike  Monogatari. 

The  following  is  an  account  of  a battle  between  the 
Shogun's  adherents  and  the  monks  of  Hiyeisan,  who 
had  for  once  espoused  the  Mikado's  caused  It  was 
fought  near  Karazaki,  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Biwa.  This 
passage  may  serve  as  a specimen,  as  it  was  probably 
the  model,  of  innumerable  similar  combats  in  Japanese 
literature  : — 

“When  Kaito  saw  this,  ‘The  enemy  are  few,’  he 
cried.  ‘We  must  disperse  them  before  the  rear  comes 
up.  Follow  me,  my  lads.'  With  these  words  he  drew 
his  3 feet  6 inch  sword,  and  holding  up  his  armed 
left  sleeve  as  an  arrow  guard,  rushed  midmost  into 
the  whirl  of  the  expectant  foe.  Three  of  them  he 
laid  low.  Then  retiring  to  the  beach  of  the  lake, 

he  rallied  to  him  his  followers.  Now  when  Kwai- 
jitsu,  a monk  of  Okamoto,  descried  him  from  afar,  he 
kicked  over — ‘ Kappa  /' — the  shield  which  he  had  set  up 
before  him,  and  with  his  2 feet  8 inch  bill  revolving 
like  a water-wheel,  sprang  forward  to  attack  him. 
Kaito  received  the  stroke  with  his  armed  left  sleeve, 
while  with  his  right  he  aimed  a blow  at  the  skull-piece 
of  his  adversary's  helmet,  meaning  to  split  it  fair  in 
twain.  But  his  sword  glanced  off  obliquely  to  the 
shoulder-plate,  and  thence  downwards  to  the  cross- 
stitched  rim  of  his  epauliere , doing  no  harm.  In 
endeavouring  to  repeat  the  blow  he  used  such  force 
that  his  left  stirrup-leather  broke,  and  he  was  on  the 
point  of  falling  from  his  horse.  He  recovered  his 
seat,  but  as  he  was  doing  so  Kwaijitsu  thrust  forward 


;6 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


the  shaft  of  his  bill  so  that  the  point  entered  Kaitd's 
helmet  from  below  two  or  three  times  in  succession. 
Nor  did  he  fail  in  his  aim.  Kaito,  stabbed  through 
the  windpipe,  fell  headlong  from  his  horse.  Kwaijitsu 
presently  placed  his  foot  on  the  depending  tassel  of 
Kaito's  armour,  and  seizing  him  by  the  hair,  drew  it 
towards  him,  while  he  cut  off  his  head,  which  he  then 
fixed  on  the  end  of  his  bill.  ‘ A good  beginning ! I 
have  slain  a general  of  the  military  faction/  he  ex- 
claimed joyously,  with  a mocking  laugh.  Whilst  he 
was  standing  thus,  a boy  of  about  fifteen  or  sixteen, 
with  his  hair  still  bound  up  in  'Chinese-ring'  fashion, 
wearing  a corselet  of  the  colour  of  brewer's  grains,  his 
trousers  tucked  up  high  at  the  side,  came  out  from 
among  the  onlookers,  and  drawing  a small  gold-mounted 
sword,  rushed  at  Kwaijitsu  and  smote  him  vigorously 
three  or  four  times  on  the  skull-piece  of  his  helmet. 
Kwaijitsu  turned  sharply,  but  seeing  a child  of  twice 
eight  years,  with  painted  eyebrows  and  blackened  teeth, 
thought  that  to  cut  down  a boy  of  this  age  would  be 
a piece  of  cruelty  unbecoming  his  priestly  condition. 
To  avoid  killing  him  he  made  numerous  dashes,  re- 
peatedly flourishing  his  weapon  over  him.  It  then 
occurred  to  Kwaijitsu  to  knock  the  sword  out  of  the 
boy’s  hands  with  the  shaft  of  his  bill  and  seize  him  in 
his  arms  ; but  while  he  was  trying  to  do  so,  some  of 
the  party  of  the  Hiyei  cross-roads  approached  by  a 
narrow  path  between  the  rice-fields,  and  an  arrow  shot’ 
by  one  of  them  transfixed  the  lad’s  heart  so  that  he 
fell  dead  upon  the  spot.  Upon  inquiry  it  was  found 
that  this  was  Kaito’s  eldest  son  Karawakamaru.  For- 
bidden by  his  father  to  take  part  in  the  fight,  he  was 
discontented,  and  mixing  with  the  crowd  of  spectators, 


TAIHEIKI 


1 77 


had  followed  after.  Though  a child,  he  was  a born 
soldier,  and  when  he  saw  his  father  slain  he  too  fell 
fighting  on  the  same  battlefield,  leaving  a name  behind. 
Alas,  the  pity  of  it  ! 

“ When  Kaito’s  retainers  saw  this,  they  felt  that  after 
having  their  chieftain  and  his  son  killed  before  their 
eyes,  and,  what  was  still  worse,  their  heads  taken  by 
the  enemy,  none  of  them  ought  to  return  home  alive. 
Thirty-six  of  them,  bridle  to  bridle,  made  an  onrush, 
each  more  eager  than  the  other  to  fall  fighting,  and 
make  a pillow  of  his  lord’s  dead  body.  Kwaijitsu, 
seeing  this,  laughed  out,  'Ha!  ha!  There  is  no 
understanding  you  fellows,'  he  exclaimed.  ' You  ought 
to  be  thinking  of  taking  the  heads  of  enemies  instead 
of  guarding  the  heads  of  your  own  people.  This  is 
an  omen  of  the  ruin  of  the  military  power.  If  you 
want  the  head  you  can  have  it.'  So  saying,  he  flung 
the  head  of  Kaito  into  the  midst  of  the  foe,  and  with 
downward-sweeping  blows  in  the  Okamoto  style,  cleared 
a space  in  all  directions.” 

The  next  specimen  of  Kojima’s  style  is  from  an  account 
of  the  arrest  of  Toshimoto,  one  of  the  Mikado  Go  Daigo’s 
principal  advisers,  on  a charge  of  conspiracy  against  the 
Shogunate. 

" On  the  nth  day  of  the  seventh  month  he  was 
arrested  and  taken  to  Rokiiwara  [the  residence  of  the 
Shdgun’s  representative  at  Kioto],  and  was  despatched 
thence  to  the  eastern  provinces.  He  set  out  on  his 
journey,  well  knowing  that  the  law  allowed  no  pardon  for 
a second  offence  of  this  kind,  and  that  whatever  he  might 
plead  in  his  defence  he  would  not  be  released.  Either 
he  would  be  done  away  with  on  the  journey,  or  he  would 
be  executed  at  Kamakura.  No  other  end  was  possible.” 


l7% 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


(Then,  without  any  warning  of  type  or  otherwise,  there 
follows  a passage  which  in  metre,  diction,  and  sentiment 
is  essentially  poetry.  It  is  not  very  original,  however, 
much  of  it  consisting  of  scraps  of  verse  supplied  by  the 
author’s  memory  from  older  writers.) 

“ But  one  night  more  and  a strange  lodging  would  be  his, 

Far  from  Kadono,  where  in  spring  his  steps  had  often  wandered 
in  the  snow  of  the  falleti  cherry  -flowers  j 
Far  from  Arashiyama,  whence  on  an  autumn  eve  he  was  wont  to 
return  clad  in  the  brocade  of  the  red  maple  leaves — 
Despondent,  his  mind  could  think  of  nothing  but  his  home,  bound 
to  him  by  the  strongest  ties  of  love, 

And  of  his  voife  and  children , whose  future  was  dark  to  him. 

‘ For  the  last  time he  thought,  as  he  looked  back  on  the  ninefold 
Imperial  city. 

For  many  a year  his  wonted  habitation. 

How  sad  his  heart  must  have  been  within  him 
As  he  set  out  on  this  unlooked-for  journey  ! 

His  sleeve  wet  in  the  fountain  of  the  barrier  of  Osaka — 

No  barrier,  alas  / to  stay  his  sorrow — 

He  sets  forth  over  the  ?nountain  track  to  U chide 1 710  hama, 

When  from  the  shore  he  cast  his  glance  afar  over  the  wave .” 

Here  the  author  becomes  so  involved  in  ingenious 
punning  combinations  of  the  names  of  places  on  the 
route  with  the  thread  of  his  story  that  it  is  impossible  to 
follow  him  in  a translation. 

The  following  is  one  of  the  extraneous  chapters  of  the 
Taiheiki.  It  describes  in  a very  imaginative  fashion  the 
famous  Mongol  invasion  of  Japan  by  Kublai  Khan  in  the 
thirteenth  century  of  our  era. 

“ Poring  over  the  records  of  ancient  times,  in  the  lei- 
sure afforded  me  by  the  three  superfluous  things  [night, 
winter,  and  rain],  I find  that  since  the  Creation  there  have 
been  seven  invasions  of  Japan  by  foreign  countries.  The 

1 Uchide  means  “ to  set  forth,”  and  hama,  “ shore.” 


TAIHEIKI 


179 


most  notable  of  these  attacks  were  in  the  periods  Bunyei 
(1264-1275)  and  Koan  (1278-1288).  At  this  time  the 
Great  Yuan  Emperor  [Kublai  Khan]  had  conquered  by 
force  of  arms  the  four  hundred  provinces  of  China. 
Heaven  and  earth  were  oppressed  by  his  power.  Hard 
would  it  have  been  for  a small  country  like  our  own  to 
repel  him,  and  that  it  was  able  easily  and  without  effort 
to  destroy  the  armies  of  Great  Yuan  was  due  to  naught 
else  but  the  divine  blessing. 

“ The  plan  of  this  expedition  was  as  follows  : General 
Wan,  the  leader  of  the  Yuan  force,  having  estimated  the 
area  of  the  five  metropolitan  provinces  of  Japan  at  3700  ri 
square,  calculated  that  to  fill  this  space  with  soldiers  so  as 
to  leave  no  part  of  it  unoccupied  would  require  an  army 
of  3,700,000  men.  So  he  set  forth  from  the  various 
ports  and  bays  with  his  troops  embarked  in  a fleet  of 
more  than  70,000  great  ships.  Our  Government,  having 
had  previous  information  of  this  design,  ordered  pre- 
parations to  be  made.  The  forces  of  Shikoku  and 
Kiushiu  were  directed  to  assemble  in  all  haste  at  Hakata, 
in  Tsukushi ; those  of  the  western  provinces  of  the  main 
island  hurried  to  the  capital ; while  the  men  of  Tosando 
and  of  the  northern  provinces  occupied  the  port  of  Tsu- 
ruga,  in  Echizen. 

“ Thereupon  the  warships  of  Great  Yuan,  70,000  in 
number,  arrived  together  at  the  port  of  Hakata  on  the 
third  day  of  the  eighth  month  of  the  second  year  of 
Bunyei  (1265).  Their  great  vessels  were  lashed  together, 
and  gangways  laid  across  from  one  to  another.  Every 
division  was  surrounded  by  screens  of  oilcloth  ; their 
weapons  were  set  up  in  regular  array.  From  the  Goto 
Islands  eastward  as  far  as  Hakata  the  sea  was  enclosed 
on  all  sides  for  400  ri,  a of  and  sudden  became  dry  land. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


i 80 

One  wondered  whether  a sea-serpent  vapour  had  not 
been  belched  out  and  formed  a mirage. 

“On  the  Japanese  side  a camp  was  constructed  ex- 
tending for  thirteen  ri  along  the  beach  of  Hakata.  A 
high  stone  embankment  formed  its  front,  precipitous  on 
the  side  of  the  enemy,  but  so  arranged  in  the  rear  as  to 
allow  free  movement  for  our  troops.  In  the  shelter  of  this, 
plastered  walls  were  erected,  and  barracks  constructed, 
in  which  several  tens  of  thousands  of  men  were  lodged  in 
due  order.  It  was  thought  that  in  this  way  the  enemy 
would  be  unable  to  ascertain  our  numbers.  But  on  the 
bows  of  the  hostile  ships,  beams  like  those  used  for  rais- 
ing water  from  wells  were  set  up  to  a height  of  several 
hundred  feet,  at  the  ends  of  which  platforms  were  placed. 
Men  seated  on  these  were  able  to  look  down  into  the 
Japanese  camp  and  count  every  hair’s  end.  Moreover, 
they  chained  together  planks  forty  or  fifty  feet  wide 
so  as  to  form  a sort  of  rafts,  which,  when  laid  on  the 
surface  of  the  water,  provided  a number  of  level  roads 
over  the  waves,  like  the  three  great  thoroughfares  or 
the  twelve  main  streets  [of  Kioto].  By  these  roads  the 
enemy’s  cavalry  appeared  in  many  tens  of  thousands, 
and  fought  so  desperately  that  our  troops  relaxed  their 
ardour,  and  many  of  them  had  thoughts  of  retreat.  When 
the  drum  was  beaten,  and  a hand-to-hand  contest  was 
already  engaged,  iron  balls,  like  footballs,  were  let  fly 
from  things  called  1 cannon’  [with  a sound]  like  cart- 
wheels rolling  down  a steep  declivity,  and  accompanied 
by  flashes  like  lightning.  Two  or  three  thousand  of  these 
were  let  go  at  once.  Most  of  the  Japanese  troops  were 
burnt  to  death,  and  their  gates  and  turrets  set  fire  to. 
There  was  no  opportunity  of  putting  out  the  flames. 

“When  the  men  of  Upper  Matsura  and  Lower  Matsura 


TAIHEIKI 


1 8 i 


saw  this,  they  felt  that  ordinary  measures  would  be  use- 
less, so  they  made  a circuit  by  way  of  another  bay,  and, 
with  only  1000  men,  ventured  on  a night  attack.  But 
however  brave  they  might  be,  they  were  no  more  than 
one  hair  upon  a bull  or  one  grain  of  rice  in  a granary. 
Attacking  with  so  small  a force,  they  slew  several  tens  of 
thousands  of  the  enemy,  but  in  the  end  were  all  made 
prisoners.  They  were  bound  with  cruel  cords,  and  their 
hands  nailed  to  the  bulwarks  of  the  line  of  vessels. 

ft  No  further  resistance  was  possible.  All  the  men  of 
Kiushiu  fled  to  Shikoku  and  the  provinces  north  of  the 
Inland  Sea.  The  whole  Japanese  nation  was  struck  with 
panic,  and  knew  not  what  to  do.  Visits  to  the  shrines  of 
the  Shinto  gods,  and  public  and  secret  services  in  the 
Buddhist  temples,  bowed  down  the  Imperial  mind  and 
crushed  the  Imperial  liver  and  gall-bladder.  Imperial 
messengers  were  despatched  with  offerings  to  all  the 
gods  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  all  the  Buddhist  temples 
of  virtue  to  answer  prayer,  great  and  small  alike,  through- 
out the  sixty  provinces.  On  the  seventh  day,  when  the 
Imperial  devotions  were  completed,  from  Lake  Suwa 
there  arose  a cloud  of  many  colours,  in  shape  like  a great 
serpent,  which  spread  away  towards  the  west.  The  doors 
of  the  Temple-treasury  of  Hachiman  flew  open,  and  the 
skies  were  filled  with  a sound  of  galloping  horses  and  of 
ringing  bits.  In  the  twenty-one  shrines  of  Yoshino  the 
brocade-curtained  mirrors  moved,  the  swords  in  the 
Temple-treasury  put  on  a sharp  edge,  and  all  the  shoes 
offered  to  the  god  turned  towards  the  west.  At  Sumi- 
yoshi  sweat  poured  from  below  the  saddles  of  the  four 
horses  sacred  to  the  deities,  and  the  iron  shields  turned 
of  themselves  and  faced  the  enemy  in  a line.” 

(Many  more  similar  wonders  follow.) 

13 


82 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ Now  General  Wan  of  Great  Yuan,  having  cast  off  the 
moorings  of  his  70,000  ships,  at  the  hour  of  the  dragon 
on  the  seventeenth  day  of  the  eighth  month  started  for 
Nagato  and  Suwo  by  way  of  Moji  and  Akamagaseki 
[Shimonoseki].  His  fleet  were  midway  on  their  course 
when  the  weather,  which  had  been  windless,  with  the 
clouds  at  rest,  changed  abruptly.  A mass  of  black  clouds 
arising  from  the  north-east  covered  the  sky,  the  wind 
blew  fiercely,  the  tumultuous  billows  surged  up  to 
heaven,  the  thunder  rolled  and  the  lightning  dashed 
against  the  ground  so  abundantly  that  it  seemed  as  if 
great  mountains  were  crumbling  down  and  high  heaven 
falling  to  the  earth.  The  70,000  warships  of  the  foreign 
pirates  either  struck  upon  cragged  reefs  and  were  broken 
to  atoms,  or  whirling  round  in  the  surging  eddies,  went 
down  with  all  hands. 

“ Nevertheless,  General  Wan  alone  was  neither  driven 
off  by  the  storm  nor  buried  beneath  the  waves,  but  flew 
aloft  and  stood  in  the  calm  seclusion  of  the  middle  heaven. 
Here  he  was  met  by  a sage  named  RyoTo-bin,  who  came 
soaring  from  the  west.  He  addressed  General  Wan  as 
follows:  ‘The  gods  of  heaven  and  the  gods  of  earth  of 
the  entire  country  of  Japan,  3700  shrines  or  more,  have 
raised  this  evil  wind  and  made  the  angry  billows  surge 
aloft.  Human  power  cannot  cope  with  them.  I advise 
you  to  embark  at  once  in  your  one  shattered  ship  and 
return  to  your  own  country/  General  Wan  was  per- 
suaded. He  embarked  in  the  one  shattered  ship  which 
remained,  braved  all  alone  the  waves  of  10,000  ri  of  ocean, 
and  presently  arrived  at  the  port  of  Mingchu  [in  China].” 

The  word  rendered  “cannon”  is  teppo , lit.  “iron  tube.” 
It  properly  means  a matchlock.  But  according  to  the 
encyclopaedia  called  the  Sansaidzuye , neither  cannon  nor 


TAIHEIKI 


183 

matchlocks  were  known  to  the  Chinese  before  the  six- 
teenth century.  Matchlocks  were  first  introduced  into 
Japan  by  Mendez  Pinto  and  his  companions  in  1543,  and 
were  not  known  to  the  Chinese  until  later.  The  inference 
is  that  this  passage,  and  probably  the  whole  chapter,  is  a 
later  interpolation. 

It  is  perhaps  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that  there 
is  a nucleus  of  fact  hidden  among  all  this  fictitious  em- 
broidery. Kublai  Khan  did  send  a large  fleet  against 
Japan  about  the  time  stated,  which  met  with  a fate 
similar  to  that  of  the  Spanish  Armada  prepared  for  the 
conquest  of  England. 


CHAPTER  II 


KENKO  AND  THE  “TSURE-DZURE-GUSA”* 

If  there  are  many  arid  wastes  in  Japanese  literature, 
there  are  also  some  pleasant  oases,  and  of  these  the 
T sure-dzure-gusa  is  surely  one  of  the  most  delightful. 
It  is  a collection  of  short  sketches,  anecdotes,  and 
essays  on  all  imaginable  subjects,  something  in  the 
manner  of  Selden’s  Table  Talk.  The  author  is  known 
to  us  as  KENKO-BOSHI,  bos  hi  being  an  honorific  epithet 
something  like  our  Reverend.  He  was  a man  of  good 
family,  and  traced  his  descent  through  various  dis- 
tinguished personages  from  the  Shinto  deity  Kogane 
no  Mikoto.  For  many  years  in  the  service  of  the 
Mikado  Go  Uda  no  In,  his  writings  show  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  ways  and  customs  of  the  Im- 
perial palace.  On  the  death  of  his  master  in  1324, 
Kenk5  became  a Buddhist  monk,  and  retired  from 
public  life,  spending  the  remainder  of  his  days  in 
various  secluded  spots  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Kioto. 
The  date  of  his  death  is  not  positively  known,  but 
there  is  nothing  improbable  in  the  statement  that  he 
died  in  1350,  in  his  sixty-eighth  year. 

Very  contradictory  views  of  his  character  have  been 
taken  by  native  writers.  Some  call  him  a profligate, 
unscrupulous,  common  priest,  and  quote  an  old  scandal 

1 Translated  by  Rev.  C.  S.  Eby,  in  the  Chrysanthemum , vol.  iiL 
184 


TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 


85 


told  in  the  Taiheikiy  of  his  writing  for  Kd  no  Moronao 
the  letters  which  he  addressed  to  the  wife  of  Yenya 
Hangwan  urging  his  adulterous  suit.  But  the  Taiheiki 
is  a very  dubious  authority,  and  there  are  other  reasons 
for  questioning  the  truth  of  this  story.  Kenko's  ad- 
mirers maintain  that  he  was  a truly  pious  man. 

Judging  from  his  writings,  there  would  appear  to  have 
been  two  personalities  in  Kenko,  the  shrewd,  polished, 
and  somewhat  cynical  man  of  the  world,  and  the 
Buddhist  devotee,  the  former  element  of  his  character 
having  a decided  preponderance.  His  religion  was  to 
all  appearance  sincere,  but  was  certainly  not  profound- 
Like  Horace,  whom  he  much  resembles  in  character, 
he  had  his  pious  moods,  but  was  very  far  indeed  from 
being  a saint.  A professor  of  the  Tendai  sect  of 
Buddhism,  he  has  much  to  say,  and  says  it  well,  of 
the  uncertainty  of  life,  the  folly  of  ambition  and 
money-getting,  and  the  necessity  for  putting  away  the 
lusts  of  this  wicked  world  and  preparing  betimes  for 
eternity.  But  the  old  Adam  is  never  far  off.  His 
unregenerate  nature  is  not  to  be  suppressed,  and  gives 
evidence  of  its  existence  ever  and  anon  in  passages 
which  his  devout  admirers  would  willingly  forget. 

His  religion  was  not  of  that  robust  kind  which  thrives 
amid  the  cares  and  distractions  of  the  world,  and  by 
which  ordinary  life  may  be  made  “ a perfumed  altar- 
flame."  He  has  left  on  record  his  opinion  (which  is 
indeed  a commonplace  of  the  sect  to  which  he  be- 
longed) that  true  piety  is  impossible  except  in  seclu- 
sion from  the  world.  The  quiet  of  his  own  hermitage 
having  once  been  disturbed  by  the  visit  of  a hunting 
party,  he  composed  a poem  complaining  that  the  world 
pursued  him  even  there,  and  changed  his  abode  to  a 


86 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


still  more  remote  locality.  But  with  all  his  precau- 
tions he  never  attained  to  Nirvana,  if  by  that  term  we 
are  to  understand  the  holy  calm  of  mind  which  is  the 
result  of  long-continued  meditation  on  divine  things. 

The  name  Kenko,  which  he  selected  when  he  became 
a monk,  is  characteristic  of  his  spiritual  condition.  He 
retained  the  two  Chinese  characters  with  which  his 
lay  name  Kaneyoshi  is  written,  simply  altering  the 
pronunciation  to  something  which  with  a little  good- 
will might  be  allowed  to  stand  for  a Buddhist  priestly 
designation.  This  is  much  as  if  a man  named  Oliver 
were  to  enter  religion  as  “ Brother  Oliverus,"  instead 
of  adopting  a saint’s  name  from  the  calendar. 

There  is  much  self-revelation  in  Kenko’s  writings. 
The  personality  which  they  portray  is  not  a wholly 
lovable  one.  There  is  something  wrong  about  the  man 
who  abhorred  matrimony  (not  that  celibacy  and  chastity 
were  with  him  convertible  terms),  thought  children 
a mistake,  and  declared  that  after  forty  life  was  not 
worth  living.  The  following  anecdote,  which  he  him- 
self relates,  throws  some  light  on  his  curiously  mixed 
character  : — 

“ Even  men  from  whom  we  should  not  expect  much 
feeling  sometimes  say  a good  thing.  A certain  wild 
savage  of  terrible  appearance,  meeting  a neighbour, 
asked  him,  had  he  any  children.  'Not  one,'  was  the 
reply.  ‘ Then  you  cannot  know  the  Ah-ness  of  things, 
and  your  doings  must  be  with  a heart  devoid  of  feel- 
ing.’ This  is  a very  fearful  saying.  It  is  no  doubt 
true  that  by  children  men  become  conscious  of  the 
Ah-ness  of  all  things.  Without  the  path  of  the  natural 
affections  how  should  there  be  any  sentiment  in  the 
hearts  of  such  persons?" 


TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 


187 


To  know  the  Ah-ness  of  things  (7/10710  no  aware  wo 
shiru)  is  a phrase  which  is  constantly  recurring  in 
Japanese  literature,  especially  during  the  classical  period. 
The  learned  critic  Motoori  discusses  it  at  great  length 
in  his  treatise  on  the  nature  of  poetry  entitled  Iso  no 
Ka//ii  Shi-skuku-gen.  It  means  to  have  a sensitive, 
emotional  nature,  the  coeur  sensible  of  the  French,  and 
applies  more  particularly  to  a capacity  for  receiving 
the  impressions  produced  on  man  by  Nature  in  her 
various  moods. 

Kenko  would  doubtless  have  spurned  the  idea  that 
for  an  accomplished  gentleman,  scholar,  and  poet  like 
himself  paternity  was  necessary  in  order  to  awaken 
the  emotional  sensibilities,  though  in  the  case  of  “ such 
persons"  as  the  rude  peasant  of  his  story  this  might 
very  well  be  the  case. 

The  followers  of  the  various  forms  of  religion  and 
ethics  practised  in  Japan  have  all  claimed  Kenko  as 
a teacher  of  their  own  set  of  doctrines.  It  is  true 
that  although  he  is  in  the  main  a Buddhist,  he  had, 
with  the  liberal  comprehensiveness  characteristic  of  the 
Japanese  nation,  more  than  a mere  tolerance  for  other 
faiths.  He  not  only  showed  a reverence  for  the  Shinto 
deities,  but  was  a profound  student  of  the  Confucian 
moral  philosophy,  and  even  of  Taoism,  that  mass  of  vague 
speculations  attributed  to  Laotze  and  his  disciple  Chwang- 
tze.  But  it  is  a mistake  to  regard  him  as  a partisan  of 
any  particular  creed,  or  as  a moral  teacher  at  all.  He 
tells  us  himself  in  the  opening  sentences  of  the  Tsnre - 
dzure-gusa  that  it  was  written  to  while  away  the  live-long 
days  of  tedium  (tsure-dzure)y  sitting  with  his  ink-slab 
before  him,  and  jotting  down  all  manner  of  trifles  as 
they  presented  themselves  to  his  mind,  If  one  of  his 


1 88 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


latest  editors  is  correct,  it  was  not  even  written  for  publi- 
cation, but  was  collected  after  his  death  into  its  present 
form  by  some  unknown  person. 

Kenko  was  a lover  of  antiquity,  whether  in  the  shape 
of  old  works  of  art,  the  old  customs  and  forms  of  speech 
which  lingered  (and  still  linger)  about  the  Mikado's  palace, 
or  old  books.  He  speaks  in  terms  of  special  admira- 
tion of  the  Genji  Monogatari  and  the  Makura  Zoshi , on 
which  his  own  style  was  evidently  modelled.  It  contrasts 
strongly  with  the  idiom  charged  with  Chinese  vocables, 
metaphors,  and  allusions,  which  in  his  day  had  well-nigh 
supplanted  the  old  Japanese  of  the  Heian  period.  Kenko, 
in  a word,  is  a belated  classic.  He  has  no  objection  to  a 
useful  Chinese  word  or  an  apt  illustration  from  Chinese 
history,  but  his  purer  taste  rejects  the  pompous  plati- 
tudes and  pedantic  show  of  learning  which  too  often 
disfigure  the  works  of  imitators  of  Chinese  models.  His 
essays  read  like  the  conversation  of  a polished  man  of 
the  world,  and  have  that  appearance  of  simplicity  and 
ease  of  expression  which  is  in  reality  the  result  of 
consummate  art. 

Those  who  wish  to  enter  on  the  study  of  the  older 
Japanese  literature  cannot  make  a better  choice  than  the 
Tsure-dzure-gusa.  It  is  not  so  difficult  as  the  Genji  Mono- 
gatari or  the  Makura  Zoshi , and  the  new  edition  called 
the  Tsure-dzure-gusa  Kogi  affords  every  help  in  the  way 
of  explanation  to  those  who  have  made  sufficient  pro- 
gress in  Japanese  to  avail  themselves  of  it.  The  lover  of 
curious  books  will  prefer  the  quaint  old  block-printed 
editions  of  1672  and  1688,  both  of  which  have  numerous 
notes. 

Kenko  had  a high  reputation  as  a writer  of  Tanka.  He 
was  one  of  the  “Four  Heavenly  Kings"  (a  phrase  bor- 


TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 


39 


rowed  from  Indian  mythology),  as  the  four  chief  poets 
of  his  day  were  termed.  Fortunately,  most  students  of 
Japanese  will  say,  the  exercise  of  Kenko’s  poetic  talent 
has  been  diverted  into  other  channels.  The  Tsure-dzure - 
gusa  is  not  besprinkled  with  Tanka. 

Some  Extracts  from  the  “ Tsure-dzure-gusa  ” 

“ When  I was  eight  years  of  age,  I asked  my  father, 
‘What  sort  of  thing  is  a Buddha?’  He  replied,  ‘A 
Buddha  is  something  which  a man  grows  into.'  ‘ How 
then  does  one  become  a Buddha  ? ’ said  I.  * By  the  teach- 
ings of  a Buddha.’  * But  who  taught  the  Buddha  who 
gives  us  this  teaching  ? ' ‘ He  becomes  a Buddha  by  the 

teaching  of  another  Buddha  who  was  before  him.'  * Then 
what  sort  of  a Buddha  was  that  first  Buddha  of  all  who 
began  teaching  ? ' My  father  was  at  an  end  of  his  answers, 
and  replied,  laughing,  * I suppose  he  must  have  flown 
down  from  the  sky  or  sprung  up  from  the  ground.'  He 
used  to  tell  his  friends  this  conversation,  much  to  their 
amusement." 

“However  accomplished  a man  may  be,  without  gal- 
lantry he  is  a very  lonely  being.  Such  a one  reminds  me 
of  a costly  wine-cup  that  has  no  bottom." 

“That  man  is  to  be  envied  whose  mind  is  fixed  on 
futurity,  and  to  whom  the  way  of  Buddha  is  familiar." 

“What  strikes  men’s  eyes  most  of  all  in  a woman  is  the 
beauty  of  her  hair.  Her  quality  and  disposition  may  be 
gathered  from  the  manner  of  her  speech,  even  though  a 
screen  be  interposed.  There  are  occasions  too  when  her 
very  posture  when  seated  leads  a man's  heart  astray. 
Then,  until  his  hopes  are  realised,  he  bears  patiently 
what  is  not  to  be  borne,  regardless  even  of  his  life.  It  is 


90 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


only  love  which  can  do  this.  Deep  indeed  are  the  roots 
of  passion,  and  remote  its  sources.  It  is  possible  to  put 
away  from  us  all  the  other  lusts  of  this  wicked  world. 
But  this  one  alone  it  is  very  hard  to  eradicate.  Old  and 
young,  wise  and  foolish,  all  are  alike  its  slaves.  There- 
fore it  has  been  said  that  with  a cord  twined  of  a woman’s 
hair  the  great  elephant  may  be  firmly  bound  ; with  a 
whistle  carved  from  a woman’s  shoe  the  deer  in  autumn 
may  without  fail  be  lured. 

“It  is  this  beguilement  which  we  must  chastise  in  our- 
selves, it  is  this  which  we  must  dread,  it  is  this  against 
which  we  must  be  on  our  guard." 

“ One  day  in  the  tenth  month  [about  our  September] 
I took  a walk  over  the  plain  of  Kurisu,  and  exploring 
a certain  hill-district  which  lay  beyond,  was  threading 
my  way  along  a narrow  moss-grown  path,  when  I came 
upon  a lonely  cottage.  No  sound  was  to  be  heard  except 
the  dripping  of  water  from  a pipe  buried  under  fallen 
leaves.  It  was,  however,  inhabited,  as  I gathered  from 
the  chrysanthemums  and  red  autumn  leaves  which  be- 
strewed the  domestic  shrine.  ‘Ah!’  thought  I,  'to 
spend  one’s  days  even  in* such  a spot!'  But  whilst  I 
stood  gazing  I espied  in  the  garden  beyond  a great 
orange-tree  with  branches  bending  to  the  ground.  It 
was  strongly  fenced  off  on  every  side.  This  [evidence 
that  covetous  desires  had  penetrated  even  here]  some- 
what dispelled  my  dreams,  and  I wished  from  my  heart 
that  no  such  tree  had  been." 

“ If  we  take  a pen  in  hand,  it  suggests  writing ; if  we 
take  up  a musical  instrument,  the  very  act  of  doing 
so  prompts  us  to  make  music ; a wine-cup  suggests 
drinking ; dice  make  us  think  of  gambling.  Our  hearts 
are  inevitably  influenced  by  our  actions.  We  should 


TSURE-DZURE-GUSA 


191 

therefore  be  careful  to  abstain  wholly  from  unedifying 
amusements. 

“ If  we  thoughtlessly  glance  at  a verse  of  the  Sacred 
Scriptures,  what  goes  before  and  after  presents  itself  to 
our  minds  without  our  effort,  and  this  may  lead  to  a 
sudden  reformation  of  the  errors  of  many  years.  If  we 
had  never  read  the  Scriptures,  how  should  we  have  known 
this  ? Such  is  the  virtue  of  association. 

“ If,  even  without  any  pious  intentions  whatever,  we 
kneel  down  before  the  Buddha,  and  take  in  our  hands 
the  sacred  book  and  the  bell,  a good  work  goes  on  of 
itself  within  us.  If,  even  with  wandering  minds,  we  take 
our  seat  on  the  rope-mat,  unawares  we  become  absorbed 
in  devout  contemplation. 

“At  bottom,  action  and  principle  are  one.  If  we  are 
careful  to  avoid  offences  in  our  outward  actions,  the 
inner  principle  becomes  fortified.  We  should  therefore 
beware  of  making  a profession  of  unbelief,  and  treat 
religion  with  all  honour  and  respect.” 

“ There  are  many  things  in  this  world  which  to  me  are 
incomprehensible.  I cannot  understand  how  any  one 
can  find  pleasure  in  urging  people  to  drink  against  their 
will,  as  is  done  the  first  thing  on  all  occasions.  The 
victim  in  his  distress  knits  his  brows,  and  watches  an 
opportunity  when  no  one  is  looking  to  spill  the  liquor  or 
to  steal  away.  But  he  is  caught,  detained,  and  made  to 
drink  his  share  as  if  there  was  nothing  the  matter.  The 
nicest  fellows  suddenly  become  madmen,  and  give  way 
to  absurd  conduct.  The  healthiest  men,  before  our 
very  eyes,  become  afflicted  with  grave  illness,  and  lay 
themselves  down  unconscious  of  past  and  future.  A 
sorry  way  indeed  of  celebrating  a festal  occasion  ! 
Until  the  morrow  they  remain  lying  in  a drunken  state, 


1 92 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


with  aching  heads,  and  unable  to  eat,  as  if  far  removed 
from  life,  taking  no  thought  for  the  next  day,  and  too  ill 
to  attend  to  important  business,  public  or  private. 

“ It  is  not  kindly  or  even  courteous  to  treat  people 
in  this  way.  If  we  were  told  that  such  a custom  existed 
in  some  foreign  country  (being  unknown  in  Japan)  we 
should  think  it  most  strange  and  unaccountable." 

Here  follows  a description  of  a drunken  debauch  which 
is  somewhat  too  graphic  for  transference  to  these  pages. 
Kenko  goes  on  to  say — 

“ In  this  world  strong  drink  has  much  to  answer  for. 
It  wastes  our  means  and  destroys  our  health.  It  has  been 
called  the  chief  of  the  hundred  medicines,  but  in  truth  it 
is  from  strong  drink  more  than  aught  else  that  all  our 
diseases  spring.  It  may  help  us  to  forget  our  miseries, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  drunken  man  is  often  seen 
to  weep  at  the  remembrance  of  his  past  woes. 

“ As  for  the  future  world,  strong  drink  is  pernicious  to 
the  understanding,  and  burns  up  the  root  of  good  within 
us  as  with  fire.  It  fosters  evil,  and  leads  to  our  breaking 
all  the  commandments  and  falling  into  hell.  Buddha 
has  declared  that  he  who  makes  a man  drink  wine  shall 
be  born  a hundred  times  with  no  hands." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  from  this  that  Kenko  was  a 
total  abstainer,  as  he  ought  to  have  been  if  he  kept  his 
vows  as  a Buddhist  monk.  On  the  contrary — 

11  There  are  times  when  wine  cannot  be  dispensed  with. 
On  a moonlight  night,  on  a snowy  morning,  or  when  the 
flowers  are  in  blossom  and  with  hearts  free  from  care  we 
are  conversing  with  a friend,  it  adds  to  our  pleasures  if 
the  wine-cup  is  produced." 

Kenko  goes  so  far  as  to  allow  that  with  intimate  friends 
it  is  permissible  occasionally  to  drink  deeply. 


TZURE-DZURE-GUSA 


193 


“ There  is  no  greater  pleasure  than  alone,  by  the  light 
of  a lamp,  to  open  a book  and  make  the  men  of  the 
unseen  world  our  companions." 

"Nothing  opens  one’s  eyes  so  much  as  travel,  no 
matter  where." 

“ 1 love  to  shut  myself  up  in  a mountain  temple  and 
attend  to  the  services  to  Buddha.  Here  there  is  no 
tedium,  and  one  feels  that  his  heart  is  being  purged  of 
its  impurities." 


The  Seasons — Spring 

“ It  is  change  that  in  all  things  touches  us  with  sym- 
pathy. Every  one  says,  and  not  without  some  reason, 
that  it  is  chiefly  the  autumn  which  inspires  this  feeling. 
But  it  appears  to  me  that  the  aspects  of  nature  in  spring, 
more  than  at  any  other  time,  make  our  hearts  swell  with 
emotion.  The  songs  of  birds  are  especially  suggestive  of 
this  season.  With  the  increasing  warmth  the  herbage 
in  the  hedge  comes  into  bud,  and  as  the  spring  grows 
deeper  the  hazes  are  diffused  abroad  and  the  flowers 
show  themselves  in  all  their  glory.  Sometimes  with 
continual  storms  of  wind  and  rain  they  are  dispersed 
agitatedly,  and  nothing  but  green  leaves  is  left.  All  this 
affects  our  hearts  with  constant  trepidation. 

“The  flowering  orange  has  a great  fame.  But  it  is  the 
perfume  of  the  plum-tree  which  makes  us  think  longingly 
of  the  past.  Then  there  are  the  gaily-coloured  kerria 
and  the  wistaria  of  obscurer  hues.  All  these  have  many 
feelings  associated  with  them  which  it  is  impossible  to 
leave  unmarked." 

“ In  our  hours  of  quiet  thought,  who  is  there  who  has 
no  yearnings  for  all  that  has  passed  away  ? 


194 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


"When  every  one  has  reined  to  rest,  to  while  away  the 
long  hours  of  night  we  put  in  order  our  little  odds  and 
ends  of  property.  Among  scraps  of  paper  thrown  away 
as  not  worth  preserving,  a handwriting  or  a sketch 
thrown  off  for  amusement  by  one  who  is  no  more, 
catches  the  eye  and  brings  up  vividly  the  time  when  it 
was  made.  It  is  affecting  too,  after  years  have  passed,  to 
find  a letter  even  from  one  who  is  still  alive,  and  to  think 
that  it  was  written  at  such  a date,  on  such  an  occasion. 

" The  articles  their  hands  were  familiar  with  remain 
unchanged  ( they  have  no  hearts  ! ) for  ad  the  long  years 
that  have  elapsed.  Alas  ! alas  ! ” 

" The  man  who  writes  a bad  hand  should  not  be 
deterred  by  that  circumstance  from  scribbling  letters. 
Otherwise  he  gets  his  friends  to  write  for  him,  which  is  a 
nuisance." 

" He  is  a fool  who  spends  his  life  in  the  pursuit  of  fame 
or  gain."  * 

"The  venerable  priest  Hozen,  being  asked  by  a man 
whose  drowsiness  at  prayers  interfered  with  his  religious 
duties,  how  he  should  remove  this  hindrance  to  devo- 
tion, replied,  1 Pray  earnestly  enough  to  keep  yourself 
awake.’  This  was  an  admirable  answer. 

"The  same*priest  said,  Of  you  think  your  salvation  is 
assured,  it  is  assured  ; if  you  think  it  is  not  assured,  it  is 
not  assured.’  This  is  also  an  admirable  saying. 

"Another  admirable  speech  of  his  was  to  this  effect: 
' If,  notwithstanding  that  you  are  perplexed  by  doubts, 
you  continue  your  prayers,  you  will  be  saved.  " 

Kenk5  with  some  friends  once  attended  a race-meeting, 
not,  one  would  think,  a fit  place  for  a Buddhist  recluse  to 
be  seen.  A crowd  got  between  their  carriage  and  the 
course,  shutting  out  their  view. 


TZURE-D2URE-GUSA 


195 


''  We  all  got  down  and  tried  to  push  our  way  forward 
to  the  rails,  but  the  press  was  too  great  for  us  to  get 
passage.  At  this  juncture  we  observed  a priest  who  had 
climbed  up  a tree  and  seated  himself  in  a fork  to  see 
better.  Being  drowsy,  he  was  continually  dozing  over, 
and  awaking  just  in  time  to  save  himself  from  falling. 
Everybody  shouted  and  jeered  at  him.  ' What  a fool,’ 
cried  they,  'this  fellow  is  to  let  himself  fall  asleep  so 
calmly  in  such  a dangerous  position!’  Upon  this  a 
thought  flashed  on  me,  and  I exclaimed,  'Yet  here  are 
we,  spending  our  time  in  sight-seeing,  forgetful  that 
death  may  overtake  us  at  any  moment.  We  are  bigger 
fools  even  than  that  priest.’  The  people  in  front  of  us 
all  looked  round  and  said,  'Nothing  can  be  more  true. 
It  is  indeed  utter  folly.  Come  this  way,  gentlemen.’  So 
they  opened  a passage  and  allowed  us  to  come  forward. 
Now  this  remark  of  mine  might  have  occurred  to  any- 
body. I suppose  it  was  the  unexpectedness  of  it  at  this 
time  which  caused  it  to  make  an  impression.  Men  are 
not  sticks  or  stones,  and  a word  spoken  at  a favourable 
moment  sometimes  finds  its  way  to  the  heart.” 

A commentator  says  that  " this  chapter  is  intended  to 
impress  us  with  the  uncertainty  of  human  things.”  The 
reader  may  draw  his  own  moral, 

" Beware  of  putting  off  the  practice  of  religion  until 
your  old  age.  The  ancient  tombs  are  mostly  those  of 
young  people.” 

" When  we  hear  a man’s  name  we  try  to  form  to  our- 
selves some  idea  of  his  appearance,  but  we  invariably 
find,  on  afterwards  making  his  acquaintance,  that  we 
have  been  quite  wrong.” 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  only  I who  have  sometimes  the  feeling 
that  speeches  which  I have  heard  or  sights  that  I have 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


196 

seen  were  already  seen  or  heard  by  me  at  some  past 
time — when,  I cannot  tell." 


“Things  which  are  in  Bad  Taste 


Too  much  furniture  in  one’s  living  room. 

Too  many  pens  in  a stand. 

Too  many  Buddhas  in  a private  shrine. 

Too  many  rocks,  trees,  and  herbs  in  a garden. 

Too  many  children  in  a house. 

Too  many  words  when  men  meet. 

Too  many  books  in  a book-case  there  can  never  be, 
nor  too  much  litter  in  a dust-heap." 


1 

“ It  is  not  only  when  we  look  at  the  moon  or  flowers 
with  our  eyes  that  they  give  us  pleasure.  On  a spring 
day,  though  we  do  not  leave  our  house  ; on  a moonlight 
night,  though  we  remain  in  our  chamber,  the  mere 
thought  of  them  is  exceedingly  cheering  and  delightful." 

If  Wordsworth  had  been  a Japanese  scholar,  he  might 
have  been  charged  with  plagiarising  from  this  passage 
his 


“ inward  eye 

That  is  the  bliss  of  solitude." 


CHAPTER  III 


POETRY— THE  NO  OR  LYRICAL  DRAMA— 
KIOGEN  OR  FARCE 

The  manufacture  of  Tanka  at  the  court  of  the  Mikado 
proceeded,  as  usual,  during  these  periods  of  Japanese 
history.  They  were  duly  collected  into  anthologies 
from  time  to  time ; but  as  they  present  no  features 
specially  worthy  of  notice,  and  as  they  are  admit- 
tedly much  inferior  in  merit  to  the  verse  of  earlier 
times,  it  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  them  here.  A far 
greater  interest  belongs  to  a new  development  of  the 
poetic  art  which  now  demands  our  attention,  namely, 
the  No  or  lyrical  drama. 

Like  the  ancient  Greek  tragedies  and  the  mystery 
plays  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  drama  in  Japan  was  in 
its  beginnings  closely  associated  with  religion.  Its  im- 
mediate parent  was  the  Kagura,  a pantomimic  dance, 
which  is  performed  at  this  day  to  the  sound  of  fife 
and  drum  at  Shinto  festivals,  on  a platform  provided 
for  the  purpose.  The  antiquity  of  the  Kagura  may  be 
inferred  from  the  fact  that  when  the  Kojiki (a.d.  712)  and 
the  Nihongi  (a.d.  720)  were  written,  there  was  already 
a myth  current  which  was  intended  as  an  explanation 
of  its  origin.  The  Sun  Goddess,  it  is  related,  disgusted 
at  the  unseemly  pranks  of  her  brother  Susa-no-wo, 
shut  herself  up  in  the  rock-cave  of  heaven  and  left 

14  197 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


198 

the  world  to  darkness.  Upon  this  the  gods  assembled 
in  their  myriads  in  the  dry  bed  of  the  River  of  Heaven 
(the  Milky  Way),  and  among  other  expedients  which 
they  devised  for  luring  her  out  of  her  retirement  they 
caused  Ame-no-Uzume  (the  Terrible  Female  of  heaven) 
to  array  herself  in  a fantastical  manner,  and  standing  on 
an  inverted  tub,  which  gave  out  a hollow  sound  when 
she  stamped  on  it,  to  perform  a mimic  dance  which  had 
the  desired  effect. 

The  same  works  give  elsewhere  a story  which  was 
meant  to  supply  an  explanation  of  another  pantomime 
which  was  performed  in  the  Mikado’s  palace  by  the 
Hayato  or  guards. 

It  runs  as  follows  : — There  were  two  brother  deities, 
the  elder  of  whom,  Ho-no-Susori,  was  a hunter,  and 
the  younger,  Hiko  Hohodemi,  a fisherman.  The  two 
brothers  having  quarrelled,  the  younger  used  against 
his  brother  a talisman  given  him  by  his  father-in-law, 
the  God  of  the  Sea,  by  virtue  of  which  the  tide  rose 
and  submerged  Ho-no-Susori.  The  latter  then  begged 
for  pardon,  and  promised  to  be  his  brother’s  bonds- 
man and  mime  to  all  generations  ; whereupon,  by  the 
power  of  another  talisman,  the  tide  retired  and  his  life 
was  spared.  The  younger  brother  was  the  ancestor  of 
the  Mikados,  and  the  elder  of  the  Hayato,  who  in 
memory  of  this  were  accustomed  to  perform  a dance, 
in  which  the  drowning  struggles  of  Ho-no-Susori  were 
imitated.  The  actors  were  naked  to  the  waist-cloth, 
and  smeared  their  hands  and  faces  with  red  earth ; 
reminding  us  of  the  wine  - lees  of  Thespis  and  his 
crew. 

There  is  frequent  mention  in  subsequent  Japanese 
history  of  pantomime  performances,  some  of  which 


NO 


199 

were  secular,  and  others  of  a more  or  less  sacred 
character. 

When  the  dance  and  music  of  the  Kagura  were 
supplemented  by  a spoken  dialogue,  the  No  were  the 
result.  The  addition  of  words  is  said  to  have  been 
suggested  by  the  chanted  recitations  of  the  Heike 
Monogatari  by  itinerant  bonzes,  and  there  is  much  in 
the  language  of  the  No  to  countenance  this  supposition. 
It  is  certain  that  the  authors  were  welt  acquainted  with 
it,  and  also  with  the  Gempei  Seisuiki  and  the  Taiheiki. 

The  beginnings  of  the  No  date  from  the  fourteenth 
century.  They  were  at  first  purely  religious  perform- 
ances, intended  to  propitiate  the  chief  deities  of  the 
Shinto  religion,  and  were  acted  exclusively  in  connection 
with  their  shrines.  At  Ise,  the  principal  seat  of  the  wor- 
ship of  the  Sun  Goddess,  there  were  three  No  theatres, 
in  Omi  three,  in  Tamba  three,  and  at  Nara  four,  all 
devoted  to  the  service  of  the  respective  Shinto  gods 
worshipped  in  these  places. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  Muromachi  period  a manager 
of  one  of  the  No  theatres  at  Nara,  named  Kwan-ann 
Kiyotsugu,  attracted  the  notice  of  the  ruling  Shdgun, 
who,  for  the  sake  of  his  art,  took  him  into  his  im- 
mediate service.  It  is  a noteworthy  circumstance,  as 
indicating  the  social  position  of  the  No  performers, 
that  this  Kwan-ami  was  a small  daimio,  holding  a fief 
in  the  province  of  Yamato,  He  died  in  1406.  From 
this  time  forward  the  No  were  under  the  special 
patronage  of  the  Shoguns,  just  as  the  Tanka  found 
favour  and  official  protection  at  the  court  of  the 
Mikado.  Kiyotsugu  was  succeeded  by  his  eldest  son 
Motokiyo,  who  died  in  1455,  in  his  eighty-first  year. 
Their  descendants  enjoyed  the  favour  of  the  Shoguns 


200  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

for  a long  period.  Hideyoshi,  who  was  Shogun  in  all 
but  name,  was  very  fond  of  the  N5,  and  is  said  to 
have  taken  part  in  them  as  an  actor.  Several  of  the 
more  recent  date  from  his  time.  In  the  Yedo  period 
the  Shoguns  gave  great  attention  to  No  performances. 
They  were  made  a ceremony  of  state,  and  were  acted 
by  young  gentlemen  of  the  military  class  educated 
specially  for  this  profession.  Even  at  the  present  day 
there  are  some  remains  of  their  former  popularity 
with  the  Samurai.  Representations  are  still  given  in 
Tokio,  Kioto,  and  other  places,  by  the  descendants  or 
successors  of  the  old  managers  who  founded  the  art 
five  hundred  years  ago,  and  are  attended  by  small  but 
select  audiences  composed  almost  entirely  of  ex-Daimios 
or  military  nobles  and  their  ex-retainers.  To  the  vulgar 
the  No  are  completely  unintelligible. 

Of  the  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  No  contained  in  the 
latest  and  most  complete  collection  (the  Yd-kyoku  Tsuge\ 
no  fewer  than  ninety-three  are  assigned  to  Se-ami  Moto- 
kiyo,  the  second  of  the  line  of  official  managers  ; his 
father,  Kwan-ami  Kiyotsugu,  being  credited  with  fifteen. 
Motokiyo's  son-in-law  and  successor  has  twenty-two 
assigned  to  him,  those  of  the  remainder  which  are  not 
anonymous  being  distributed  among  a dozen  or  so  of 
the  subsequent  holders  of  the  office.  The  great  majority 
belong  to  the  fifteenth  century. 

The  Yd-kyoku  Tsuge  editor  suggests,  with  great  proba- 
bility, that  although  the  names  of  Kiyotsugu,  Motokiyo, 
and  their  successors  are  given  as  authors  of  the  No,  they 
were  in  reality  only  responsible  for  the  music,  the  panto- 
mimic dance  (the  “ business,”  as  we  might  say),  and  the 
general  management.  He  surmises  that  the  libretto  was 
the  work  of  Buddhist  monks,  to  which  class  almost  all 


NO 


201 


the  literary  men  of  this  period  belonged.  The  question 
of  authorship  is,  however,  of  minor  importance,  as  the 
characteristics  of  the  No  are  rather  those  of  a school  of 
writers  than  of  individuals. 

Whoever  their  authors  may  have  been,  their  primary 
object  was  the  promotion  of  piety.  In  some  cases  a 
patriotic  or  martial  enthusiasm  is  the  inspiring  motive, 
and  a love  of  nature  is  discernible  in  almost  all,  but  the 
staple  material  is  the  mass  of  legends  associated  with  the 
Buddhist  and  Shinto  religions.  A monk  or  guardian  of 
a Shinto  shrine  is  most  frequently  the  chief  personage 
of  the  play,  and  the  virtue  of  hospitality  to  the  priestly 
order,  the  sin  of  taking  away  life,  the  praise  of  particular 
deities,  the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  transitoriness  of 
human  things  are  favourite  themes  with  them. 

In  the  No,  next  after  religion  comes  poetry.  Not  that 
they  are  exactly  poems.  Purely  lyrical  passages  are  not 
wanting,  but  much,  both  from  the  point  of  view  of  metre 
and  of  diction,  is  undeniable  prose.  Not  a little  is  in  an 
intermediate  style,  in  which  the  seven  and  five  syllable 
phrases  succeed  one  another  with  great  irregularity,  and 
the  language  is  alloyed  with  a less  poetic  element.  The 
admission  of  Chinese  words,  although  in  moderation, 
also  tends  to  lower  the  poetic  level.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  these  are  rigorously  excluded  from  the  older 
classical  poetry. 

A very  striking  feature  of  the  No  is  the  lavish  use  which 
they  make  of  the  poetic  devices  mentioned  in  a previous 
chapter.1  Pillow-words  are  freely  introduced,  and  paral- 
lelism is  a common  ornament.  But  the  greatest  favourite 
of  all  is  the  “ pivot-word,”  which  is  employed  in  the  No 
to  an  extent  and  in  a manner  previously  unknown  to 

1 See  above,  p.  32. 


202 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Japanese  literature.  This  must  be  my  excuse  for  dwell- 
ing on  it  at  somewhat  greater  length  here.  “The  Pivot" 
(I  quote  from  Mr.  Chamberlain's  Classical  Poetry  of  the 
Japanese')  “ is  a word  of  two  significations,  which  serves 
as  a species  of  hinge  on  which  two  doors  turn,  so  that 
while  the  first  part  of  the  poetical  phrase  has  no  logical 
end,  the  latter  part  has  no  logical  beginning.  They  run 
into  each  other,  and  the  sentence  could  not  possibly  be 
construed.”  Mr.  Chamberlain  adds  that  “ to  the  English 
reader  such  a punning  invention  will  doubtless  seem  the 
height  of  misapplied  ingenuity.  But,  as  a matter  of  fact, 
the  impression  produced  by  these  linked  verses  is  delight- 
ful in  the  extreme,  passing  as  they  do  before  the  reader 
like  a series  of  dissolving  views,  vague,  graceful,  and  sug- 
gestive. This  ornament  especially  characterises  the  old 
poetic  dramas,  and  renders  them  a peculiarly  arduous 
study  to  such  as  do  not  thoroughly  appreciate  its  nature.” 

Native  critics  would  no  doubt  endorse  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain’s favourable  opinion  of  the  pivot-word,  and  it  is 
undeniable  that  the  Japanese,  who  are  an  eminently 
nimble-witted  race,  delight  in  these  acrobatic  feats  of 
language.  But  the  English  student  will  ask  whether  it 
is  worth  while  to  sacrifice  sense  and  syntax  for  the.  sake 
of  such  inane,  if  sometimes  pretty,  antics.  I venture  to 
think  that  the  “pivot"  is  a mistake  in  serious  com- 
position, and  that  the  partiality  for  such  a frivolous 
ornament  of  style  manifested  not  only  by  the  writers 
of  No,  but  by  the  dramatists  and  novelists  of  the  Yedo 
period,  is  a characteristic  sign  of  an  age  of  literary  deca- 
dence and  bad  taste.  Such  writers  as  Hakuseki,  Kiuso, 
and  Motoori  disdain  it  utterly. 

The  authors  of  the  No  do  not  pique  themselves  on 
originality.  They  are  in  the  habit  of  conveying  to  their 


NO 


203 


own  pages  in  the  most  liberal  manner  snatches  of  Tanka, 
texts  of  Buddhist  scripture,  or  striking  phrases  supplied 
by  their  memory  from  older  writers,  stringing  them  to- 
gether, however,  in  a way  which  does  much  credit  to 
their  ingenuity.  Plagiarism,  it  may  be  remarked,  is 
hardly  recognised  as  an  offence  by  the  Japanese. 

The  No  are  not  classical  poems.  They  are  too  de- 
ficient in  lucidity,  method,  coherence,  and  good  taste  to 
deserve  this  description.  Still  they  are  not  without  charm. 
Jcux-de-mots  are  not  everything  in  them,  and  the  reader 
who  has  the  patience  to  unravel  their  intricacies  of 
language  will  not  go  altogether  unrewarded.  If  their 
vein  of  poetic  ore  is  less  pure  than  that  of  the  Manydshiu 
and  Kokinshiu , it  is  also  richer.  They  embrace  within 
their  scope  a world  of  legendary  lore,  of  quaint  fancies, 
and  of  religious  sentiment,  to  which  the  classical  poetry 
of  Japan  is  a stranger.  And  if  we  miss  the  perfection  of 
form  which  characterises  the  dainty  little  Tanka,  we  have 
instead  a luxuriance  and  variety  which  go  some  way  to 
indemnify  us  for  its  absence.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that 
so  promising  a literary  departure  should  have  proved 
ultimately  abortive.  After  the  sixteenth  century  the  No 
ceased  to  be  written.  The  current  of  the  higher  Japanese 
thought  had  by  this  time  turned  away  from  Buddhism 
and  everything  that  belongs  to  it,  and  was  setting  strongly 
towards  Chinese  philosophy.  Though  the  No  were  still 
performed,  the  impulse  to  write  new  ones  was  apparently 
no  longer  felt. 

As  dramas  the  No  have  little  value.  There  is  no  action 
to  speak  of,  and  dramatic  propriety  and  effect  are  hardly 
thought  of.  The  plot  is  frequently  something  of  the 
following  description  : — 

A priest  appears  on  the  scene.  He  announces  his 


* 


204  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

name,  and  informs  the  audience  that  he  is  setting  out  on 
his  travels.  Presently  he  arrives  at  a temple,  a battle- 
field, or  other  celebrated  spot,  when  a ghost  or  deity 
appears,  who  relates  to  him  the  local  legend.  An  ex- 
change of  edifying  sentiments  follows,  and  the  super- 
natural personage  finally  reveals  his  identity. 

The  whole  piece  rarely  occupies  more  than  six  or  seven 
pages  of  print,  and  it  usually  takes  less  than  an  hour  to 
perform.  Within  this  narrow  compass  it  might  be  ex- 
pected that  the  unities  of  time,  place,  and  action  would 
have  been  observed.  This  is  far  from  being  the  case. 
The  action,  in  so  far  as  there  is  any,  is  generally  more 
or  less  coherent,  but  the  other  unities  are  wholly  disre- 
garded. In  the  Takasago,  for  example,  the  scene  changes 
from  Kiushiu  to  Harima,  and  again  from  Harima  to 
Sumiyoshi,  within  seven  pages,  while  weeks  must  be 
allowed  for  the  journeys  of  the  chief  personage  between 
these  places. 

The  number  of  the  dramatis  persona  varies  from  two 
or  three  (the  latter  being  very  frequent)  up  to  five  or  six. 
To  these  must  be  added  a few  musicians  and  the  chorus. 
The  chorus  of  the  No  has  various  functions.  The  chief 
office  is  to  chant  a narrative  which  serves  to  supplement 
and  explain  the  action  of  the  piece,  as  in  some  of  Shake- 
speare’s older  plays,  or  to  recite  poetical  descriptions 
which  supply  the  place  of  the  absent  scenery.  The 
chorus  also  indulges  from  time  to  time  in  sententious  or 
sympathetic  observations,  or  even  enters  into  conversa- 
tion with  the  personages  on  the  stage. 

The  following  description  of  the  No  theatre  will  help 
us  to  realise  their  character  more  fully.  It  is  taken  from 
Mr.  Chamberlain’s  Classical  Poetry  of  the  Japanese : — 

“The  stage,  which  has  remained  unaltered  in  every 


NO 


205 


respect  since  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century,  is  a 
square  wooden  room  open  on  all  sides  but  one,  and 
supported  on  pillars,  the  side  of  the  square  being  about 
eighteen  English  feet.  It  is  surmounted  by  a quaint 
roof  somewhat  resembling  those  to  be  seen  on  Buddhist 
temples,  and  is  connected  with  the  green-room  by  a 
gallery  some  nine  feet  wide.  Upon  this  gallery  part  of  the 
action  occasionally  takes  place.  Added  on  to  the  back 
of  the  square  stage  is  a narrow  space  where  sits  the 
orchestra,  consisting  of  one  flute-player,  two  performers 
on  instruments,  which,  in  the  absence  of  a more  fitting 
name,  may  perhaps  be  called  tambourines,  and  one  beater 
of  the  drum,  while  the  chorus,  whose  number  is  not  fixed, 
squat  on  the  ground  to  the  right  of  the  spectator.  The 
back  of  the  stage,  the  only  side  not  open  to  the  air,  is 
painted  with  a pine-tree,  in  accordance  with  ancient 
usage,  while,  equally  in  conformity  with  established  rules, 
three  small  pine-trees  are  planted  in  the  court  which 
divides  the  gallery  from  the  space  occupied  by  the  less 
distinguished  portion  of  the  audience.  The  covered  place 
for  the  audience  runs  round  three  sides  of  the  stage.1 
Masks  are  worn  by  such  of  the  actors  as  take  the  parts  of 
females  or  of  supernatural  beings,  and  the  dresses  are 
gorgeous  in  the  extreme.  Scenery,  however,  is  allowed 
no  place  on  the  lyric  stage." 

It  will  readily  be  understood  that  the  difficulty  of  arriv- 
ing at  the  meaning  of  such  compositions  as  the  No  is 
very  considerable.  Mr.  Mitford,  no  mean  scholar,  in  his 
Tales  of  Old  Japan  pronounces  them  “ wholly  unin- 
telligible ” ; though  this  statement  must  be  taken  with 

1 From  which  it  is  separated  by  a space  corresponding  to  our  pit,  only  open 

to  the  air. — W.  G.  A. 


20  6 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


some  qualification,  as  he  gives  in  the  same  work  a lucid 
account  of  the  plot  of  several  of  them.  But  even  when 
he  has  mastered  their  sense,  the  translator's  difficulties 
are  only  beginning.  I know  of  nothing  in  literature  for 
which  it  is  more  impossible  to  give  an  adequate  English 
equivalent  than  the  intricate  network  of  word-plays, 
quotations,  and  historical,  literary,  and  scriptural  allusions 
of  which  they  consist.  Mr.  Chamberlain,  who  has  done 
some  of  them  into  English  verse,  confesses  that  his 
rendering  is  only  a paraphrase.  Prose  or  a rough  and 
ready  blank  verse  has  been  preferred  for  the  partial 
translation  of  the  Takasago , which  is  given  below.  But 
even  when  freed  from  the  temptation  to  introduce  ex- 
traneous matter  which  is  hardly  separable  from  a poetical 
version,  it  is  not  possible  to  render  the  original  as  faith- 
fully as  might  be  desired.  I have  tried,  however,  while 
omitting  a certain  untranslatable  element,  at  any  rate  to 
bring  in  nothing  of  my  own. 

“ Takasago  " 

This  is  one  of  the  pieces  attributed  to  Motokiyo,  who 
died  in  1455,  but,  as  already  suggested,  he  was  probably 
only  the  director  or  manager  of  the  theatre  where  it  was 
produced.  It  is  the  best  known,  and  is  considered  the 
finest  of  all  the  No.  Its  popularity  was  testified  to  no 
longer  ago  than  last  year  (1897)  by  the  launching,  from  the 
yard  of  Messrs.  Armstrong  & Co.  at  Newcastle,  of  a cruiser 
for  the  Japanese  navy  bearing  the  name  of  Takasago. 

DRAMATIS  PERSONAL. 

Tomonari  . . . Guardian  of  the  Shinto  shrine  of  A so,  in  Kiushiu. 

An  Old  Man  . . Really  the  spirit  of  the  Sumiyoshi fir-tree. 

An  Old  Woman  . . Really  the  spirit  of  the  Takasago  fir-tree. 

The  God  of  Sumiyoshi. 

Chorus. 


TAKASAGO 


207 


Chorus  (?)  1 ( chants  in  nearly  regular  metre'). 

Now  for  the  first  time  he  ties  the  lace  of  his  travelling 
garb: 

His  goal  is  distant  many  a long  day’s  journey. 

Tomonari  [speaks  in  prose).  Now,  this  is  I,  Tomonari,  guardian 
of  the  shrine  of  Aso,  in  the  province  of  Higo,  in  Kiushiu. 
Never  having  seen  the  capital,  I have  now  made  up  my  mind, 
and  am  going  up  to  the  capital.  Moreover,  I wish  to  take  this 
opportunity  of  viewing  the  bay  of  Takasago,  in  Harima. 

Chorus  (?)  (< chants  in  regular  metre).  To-day  he  has  made  up  his 
mind,  and  has  donned  his  travelling  raiment  for  a journey  to  a 
distant  goal — the  capital.  With  waves  that  rise  along  the  shore, 
and  a genial  wind  of  spring  upon  the  ship-path,  how  many 
days  pass  without  a trace  of  him  we  know  not,  until  at  length 
he  has  reached  the  longed-for  bay  of  Takasago,  on  the  coast  of 
Harima. 

Old  Man  and  Old  Woman  {chant).  The  wind  of  spring  that 
blows  through  the  fir-tree  of  Takasago  has  gone  down  with  the  sun ; 
the  vesper  bell  is  heard  from  the  Temple  of  Onoye. 

Old  Woman.  The  waves  are  hidden  from  us  by  the  mist- 
enshrouded  rocks. 

Both.  There  is  naught  but  the  sound  to  mark  the  rise  and  fall 
of  the  tide. 

Old  Man.  Whom  can  I take  to  be  my  friend  ? Except  the 
fir-tree  of  Takasago,  my  ancient  comrade,  there  is  none  to  con- 
verse with  me  of  the  bygone  days  on  which  are  ever  gathering 
white  snows  [of  forgetfulness].  I grow  older  and  older,  accus- 
tomed to  hear  nothing  but  the  wind  in  the  fir  tree  either  when  I 
rise  or  go  to  sleep  in  my  nest  of  an  aged  crane,  where  the  night 
long  moon  sheds  its  rays,  and  the  spring  sends  down  its  hoar- 
frosts. So  I make  my  own  heart  my  companion,  and  thus  give 
utterance  to  my  thoughts. 

Both.  Let  us  sweep  away  the  fir-needles  that  lie  beneath  the 

1 The  distribution  of  the  speeches  is  sometimes  doubtful.  I have  made  one 
or  two  changes. 


208 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


tree,  sleeve  touching  sleeve  of  our  garments,  whereon  rest  fallen 
leaves  shaken  down  by  the  shore-wind  asking  their  news  of  the  firs. 

Tomonari  (spoken).  While  waiting  for  some  of  the  villagers  to 
appear,  an  old  man  and  an  old  woman  have  come  hither.  I pray 
you,  old  people,  permit  me  to  ask  you  a question. 

Old  Man.  It  is  I whom  you  address  ? What  is  it  you  desire 
to  know  ? 

Tomonari.  Which  is  the  tree  that  is  called  the  fir-tree  of 
Takasago  ? 

Old  Man.  This  very  tree  whose  shade  we  are  cleansing  is  the 
fir-tree  of  Takasago. 

Tomonari.  The  phrase  “growing  old  together”  is  used  of  the 
Takasago  and  Suminoye  fir-trees.  But  this  place  and  Sumiyoshi 
[the  same  as  Suminoye]  are  in  provinces  distant  from  one  another. 
How  then  can  they  be  called  the  fir-trees  which  “ grow  old 
together  ” ? 

Old  Man.  As  you  have  deigned  to  observe,  it  is  stated  in  the 
preface  to  the  Kokinsliiu 1 that  the  fir-trees  of  Takasago  and  Sumi- 
noye make  us  feel  as  if  they  were  growing  old  together.  However 
that  may  be,  here  am  I,  an  old  man,  who  belong  to  Sumiyoshi,  in 
the  province  of  Settsu,  while  the  old  woman  here  is  of  this  place. 
Be  pleased  to  tell  me,  if  you  can,  how  that  may  be. 

Tomonari  (in  verse).  Strange  ! I see  you  old  couple  here  to- 
gether. What  mean  you  then  by  saying  that  you  dwell  apart,  one 
in  distant  Suminoye,  the  other  in  Takasago,  divided  from  one 
another  by  seashore,  hill,  and  province  ? 

Old  Woman  (in  verse).  What  an  odd  speech  ! Though  many 
a mile  of  mountain  and  river  separate  them,  the  way  of  a husband 
and  wife  whose  hearts  respond  to  one  another  with  mutual  care, 
is  not  far  apart. 

Old  Woman.  There  is  Suminoye. 

Old  Man.  And  here  is  Takasago. 

Tomonari.  The  fir-trees  blend  their  hues. 


1 See  above,  p.  66. 


TAKASAGO 


209 


Old  Man.  And  the  spring  air 

Tomonari.  Is  genial,  while 

( Here  the  chorus  strikes  in  with  a canticle  which  is  chanted  as 
the  indispensable  accompaniment  of  every  regular  Japanese  weddings 
and  is  one  of  the  best  known  passages  in  Japanese  literature. 
Figures  representing  the  two  old  folks  under  the  fir-tree  with 
brooms  in  their  hands  are , on  such  occasions,  set  out  on  a sort 
of  tray.  This  is  a favourite  subject  of  the  Japanese  artist.) 

Chorus.  On  the  four  seas 

Still  are  the  waves ; 

The  world  is  at  peace  . 

Soft  blow  the  time-winds,1 
Rustling  not  the  branches. 

In  such  an  age 
Blest  are  the  very  firs, 

In  that  they  meet 
To  grow  old  together. 

Vain  indeed 

Are  reverent  upward  looks  ; 

Vain  even  are  words  to  tell 
Our  thanks  that  we  were  born 
In  such  an  age, 

Rich  with  the  bounty 
Of  our  sovereign  lord. 

Old  Man.  I hear  the  sound  of  the  bell  of  Onoye,  in  Taka- 
sago. 

Chorus.  The  dawn  is  near, 

And  the  hoar-frost  falls 
On  the  fir-tree  twigs ; 

But  its  leaves’  dark  green 
Suffer  no  change. 

Morning  and  evening 
Beneath  its  shade 

1 The  land  and  sea  breezes,  which  blow  regularly  only  in  fine  weather. 


2 10 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


The  leaves  are  swept  away, 

Yet  they  never  fail. 

True  it  is 

That  these  fir-trees 
Shed  not  all  their  leaves  ; 

Their  verdure  remains  fresh 
For  ages  long, 

As  the  Masaka  trailing  vine ; * 

Even  amongst  evergreen  trees — 

The  emblem  of  unchangeableness — 

Exalted  is  their  fame 

As  a symbol  to  the  end  of  time — 

The  fame  of  the  fir-trees  that  have  grown  old  together. 
Tomonari.  And  ye  who  have  made  known  the  bygone  story 
of  these  ancient  firs  whose  branches  have  indeed  earned  fame  — 
tell  me,  I pray  you,  by  what  names  are  ye  called. 

Old  Man  and  Old  Woman.  Why  conceal  it  longer  ? We  are 
the  spirits  of  the  fir-trees  of  Takasago  and  Suminoye  that  have 
grown  old  together,  manifested  under  the  form  of  a married  pair. 

Chorus.  Wonderful ! A miracle  wrought  by  the  fir-trees  of 
this  famous  place  ! 

Old  Man  and  Old  Woman.  Plants  and  trees  are  without 
souls 

Chorus.  Yet  in  this  august  reign 

Old  Man  and  Old  Woman.  Even  for  plants  and  trees 

Chorus.  Good  is  it  to  live 
For  ever  and  ever 
In  this  land 
Of  our  great  sovereign, 

Under  his  rule. 

To  Sumiyoshi,1  therefore, 

He  would  now  take  his  way 
And  there  wait  upon  [the  god]. 

He  embarks  in  a fisher’s  boat 
That  lies  by  the  beach, 


1 Sumiyoshi  means  “ d well-good.” 


TAKASAGO 


21  r 


Where  the  waves  of  evening  roll, 

And  spreading  his  sail 
To  the  favouring  breeze, 

Puts  out  into  the  deep, 

Puts  out  into  the  deep. 

Tomonari.  From  Takasago  I set  sail 

In  this  skiff  that  lies  by  the  shore, 

And  put  forth  with  the  tide 
That  goes  out  with  the  moon. 

I pass  under  the  lee 
Of  Awaji’s  shore, 

I leave  far  behind  me  Naruwo, 

And  now  I have  arrived 
At  Suminoye. 

(The  god  of  Sumiyoshi1  appears , and  enters  into  a poetical  dialogue 
with  the  chorus. ) 

Chorus.  We  give  thanks  for  this  manifestation ; 

Ever  anew  we  will  worship 
Thy  spirit  with  sacred  dance 
By  Sumiyoshi’s  pure  moonlight. 

Chorus.  And  now,  world  without  end, 

The  extended  arms  of  the  dancing  maidens 

In  sacerdotal  robes 

Will  expel  noxious  influences  ; 

Their  hands  folded  to  rest  in  their  bosoms 
Will  embrace  all  good  fortune ; 

The  hymn  of  a thousand  autumns 
Will  draw  down  blessings  on  the  people, 

And  the  song  of  ten  thousand  years  2 
Prolong  our  sovereign’s  life. 

And  all  the  while, 

1 There  are  in  reality  three  gods.  Doubtless  only  one  appears  on  the 
stage. 

2 Equivalent  to  our  “ God  save  the  Queen.” 


212  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

The  voice  of  the  breeze, 

As  it  blows  through  the  firs 
That  grow  old  together, 

Will  yield  us  delight. 

Some  ot  tne  No  have  more  of  dramatic  action  than  the 
Takasago.  Nakamitsuy  a piece  translated  by  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain, is  one  of  these.  Another  example  is  the  Tosen , 
of  which  the  following  is  a resume  • — 

An  inhabitant  of  Hakosaki,  in  Kiushiu,  informs  the 
audience  that  under  an  embargo  placed  by  the  Japanese 
Government  on  Chinese  ships  thirteen  years  before,  he 
had  detained  a vessel  from  that  country,  and  made  the 
owner  his  cow-herd. 

The  Chinaman's  two  sons  come  to  ransom  their  father. 
His  master  gives  him  leave  to  go,  but  just  when  they  are 
about  to  sail,  two  sons  born  to  him  in  Japan  appear  and 
propose  to  accompany  him.  Their  request  is  refused  by 
the  master,  and  the  father,  distracted  between  his  wish  to 
return  home  with  his  Chinese  family,  and  his  reluctance 
to  leave  his  Japanese  children  behind,  tries  to  drown 
himself.  Much  appropriate  sentiment  ensues,  which 
touches  the  heart  of  the  master,  so  that  he  allows  all  five 
to  depart  together. 

In  Dojdji  a priest  appears,  and  informs  the  audience 
that  he  is  about  to  consecrate  a new  bell  for  his  temple, 
the  former  one  having  been  long  ago  removed.  He  then 
directs  his  acolyte  to  make  the  necessary  preparations, 
enjoining  on  him  specially  to  take  care  that  no  woman 
shall  be  present  at  the  ceremony. 

A dancing-girl  approaches,  and  proposes  to  dance  in 
honour  of  the  occasion.  The  acolyte  forgets  his  instruc- 
tions, and  allows  her  to  do  so.  She  takes  the  opportunity 
of  seizing  the  bell  by  the  suspending  ring,  and  bringing 


ICIOGEN 


213 


it  down  over  her,  greatly  to  the  consternation  of  the  priest. 
He  calls  together  his  fellows  and  relates  a legend  which 
explains  why  women  were  not  allowed  to  be  present  : — 
“A  man  had  an  only  daughter,  who  formed  a union 
with  a Yamabushi  [a  sort  of  lay-priest].  When  pressed 
to  marry  her,  he  ran  away  and  hid  in  the  bell  of  the 
temple.  She  pursued  him,  and  came  to  a river  which 
she  could  not  cross.  But  the  fife  of  her  passion  was  so 
intense  that  it  changed  her  into  a serpent,  in  which  form 
she  found  no  difficulty  in  swimming  over.  Coming 
to  the  temple,  the  serpent  coiled  itself  round  -the  bell, 
which  was  melted  by  the  heat  of  her  passion,  the  false 
lover  perishing  at  the  same  time.” 

The  priest,  having  told  this  legend,  joins  with  his  col- 
leagues in  reciting  with  might  and  main  all  kinds  of 
Buddhist  prayers  and  invocations,  by  which  the  bell  is 
raised  to  its  former  position,  and  the  dancing-girl  forced 
to  reveal  herself  in  her  serpent  shape.  Involved  in  flames, 
she  plunges  into  the  adjoining  river  and  disappears. 
Exeunt  omnes . 

The  Kiogen  (mad- words)  are  to  the  No  what  farce  is 
to  the  regular  drama.  They  are  performed  on  the  same 
stage  in  the  intervals  between  the  more  serious  pieces. 

They  differ  from  the  No  in  having  no  chorus,  and  in 
being  composed  in  the  pure  colloquial  dialect  of  the  time. 
They  are  even  shorter,  and  of  the  slightest  construction. 
The  following  is  an  example  : — 

“A  Daimio  sends  his  servant  to  the  city  to  buy  a talis- 
man which  will  work  miracles.  The  servant  meets  with 
a swindler,  who  sells  him  an  object  which  he  calls  the 
Mallet  of  Daikoku  (every  blow  of  which  is  supposed  to 
produce  a piece  of  gold),  telling  him  a charm  by  repeat- 
15 


2X4  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

ing  which,  as  he  holds  the  mallet,  he  can  have  anything 
he  pleases.  The  servant  returns  with  his  prize.  The 
Daimio  asks  him  to  produce  a horse.  The  servant  repeats 
his  charm,  and  declares  that  the  horse  is  ready  saddled 
and  bridled.  The  Daimio  pretends  to  think  his  servant 
the  horse,  jumps  on  his  back,  and  rides  him  about  the 
stage  in  spite  of  his  protestations." 

Fifty  of  the  Kiogen  have  been  published  under  the 
title  Kiogen  Kiy  and  there  is  before  me  a manuscript 
collection  which  contains  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  these 
pieces. 


BOOK  THE  SIXTH 


YEDO  PERIOD  (1603-1867) 


BOOK  THE  SIXTH 


YEDO  PERIOD  (1603-1867) 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTORY— “ TAIKOKI ” 

The  student  of  Japanese  history,  in  any  of  its  branches, 
should  note  well  the  two  dates  which  stand  at  the  head 
of  this  chapter.  They  mark  the  beginning  and  end  of 
that  wonderful  political  organisation  known  as  the  Toku- 
gawa  Shogunate.  The  first  is  the  date  of  the  establish- 
ment of  his  capital  at  Yedo  by  Tokugawa  Iyeyasu,  and 
the  second  that  of  the  abolition  of  the  office  of  Shogun, 
and  the  resumption  of  sovereign  authority  by  the  Mikado 
after  many  centuries  of  abeyance.  During  this  period  a 
great  wave  of  Chinese  influence  passed  over  the  country, 
deeply  affecting  it  in  every  conceivable  way.  Not  only 
the  constitution  of  the  Government,  but  the  laws,  art, 
science,  material  civilisation,  and,  most  of  all,  the  thought 
of  the  nation  as  expressed  in  its  philosophy  and  literature, 
bear  profound  traces  of  Chinese  teaching  and  example. 
This  wave  has  not  wholly  subsided  even  now,  but  it  has 
ceased  to  be  of  importance,  except,  perhaps,  in  deter- 
mining the  moral  standards  of  the  nation,  and  1867  is  a 

217 


2 I 8 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


convenient  date  from  which  to  reckon  the  substitution 
of  Europe  for  China  as  the  source  whence  the  Japanese 
draw  inspiration  in  all  these  matters. 

The  latter  half  of  the  Muromachi  period,  coinciding 
with  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  a very 
disturbed  time  in  Japan.  The  local  nobles  or  Daimios, 
defying  all  control  by  the  central  government,  engaged 
in  continual  struggles  with  one  another  for  lands  and 
power,  and  a lamentable  condition  of  anarchy  was  the 
result.  The  first  to  apply  a remedy  to  this  state  of 
things  was  one  of  their  own  order,  Nobunaga,  a man  cf 
resolute  character  and  great  military  capacity.  Aided  by 
his  two  famous  lieutenants,  Hideyoshi  and  Iyeyasu,  he 
succeeded  in  bringing  most  of  the  Daimios  into  subjection, 
and  even  deposed  the  Shogun,  although  he  was  prevented 
by  his  descent  from  assuming  that  title  himself.  At  his 
death  in  1582,  the  reins  of  power  passed  into  the  hands 
of  Hideyoshi,  who  completed  the  work  which  Nobunaga 
had  begun.  Under  the  titles  of  Kwambaku  (Regent)  or 
Taiko,  he  was  practically  monarch  of  Japan,  until  his 
death  in  1598.  Then  Iyeyasu,  after  a sharp  struggle, 
which  ended  in  1600  by  the  defeat  of  his  opponents 
in  the  decisive  battle  of  Sekigahara,  succeeded  to  the 
supreme  authority,  and  caused  himself  to  be  appointed 
Shogun  by  the  puppet  Mikado  of  the  day.  He  was  the 
founder  of  the  Tokugawa  (his  family  name)  dynasty  of 
Shoguns,  which  lasted  until  our  own  time. 

Iyeyasu  was  probably  the  greatest  statesman  that  Japan 
has  ever  seen.  By  the  organisation  of  that  remarkable 
system  of  feudal  government  under  which  the  nation 
enjoyed  peace  and  prosperity  for  two  and  a half  cen- 
turies, he  solved  fcr  his  day  and  country  the  problem, 
which  will  occupy  politicians  to  the  end  of  time,  of  the 


YEDO  PERIOD 


219 

due  apportionment  of  central  and  local  authority.  At  no 
previous  period  of  Japanese  history  was  the  power  of  the 
Central  Government  more  effectively  maintained  in  all 
essential  matters,  although  in  other  respects  the  Daimios 
were  allowed  a large  measure  of  independent  action. 
Under  this  regime  Japan  increased  amazingly  in  wealth 
and  population,  and  made  great  progress  in  all  the  arts 
of  civilisation. 

As  a consequence,  the  new  capital  of  Yedo  rose  rapidly 
to  importance.  Under  the  regulation,  established  by  Iye- 
yasu’s  grandson  Iyemitsu,  which  compelled  the  Daimios 
to  reside  there  for  part  of  the  year,  leaving  their  wives  and 
children  as  hostages  during  the  remainder,  its  population 
attained  to  at  least  a million,  and  is  believed  to  have  been 
at  one  time  considerably  more. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  enhanced  political  and 
commercial  importance  of  Yedo  should  have  brought 
about  a displacement  of  the  literary  centre  of  Japan. 
Kioto,  especially  during  the  early  part  of  the  Yedo  period, 
continued  to  be  a place  of  some  literary  activity,  and 
Osaka  became  the  cradle  of  a new  form  of  drama,  but 
Yedo  attracted  to  itself  all  the  principal  learning  and 
talent  of  the  country.  For  the  last  two  hundred  years 
Yedo  has  been  to  Japan  for  literature  what  London  is  to 
the  United  Kingdom,  or  Paris  to  France. 

There  is  another  feature  of  the  literature  of  the  Yedo 
period  which  is  traceable  to  the  improved  condition  of 
the  country.  Authors  now  no  longer  addressed  them- 
selves exclusively  to  a cultured  class,  but  to  the  people 
generally.  The  higher  degree  of  civilisation  which  was 
rendered  possible  by  an  improved  administration  and 
a more  settled  government  included  a far  more  widely 
extended  system  of  education  than  Japan  had  ever  known 


220 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


before.  And  not  only  were  the  humbler  classes  better 
educated.  They  were  more  prosperous  in  every  way,  and 
were  better  able  to  purchase  books  as  well  as  to  read 
them.  Books,  too,  were  far  more  easily  attainable  than 
before.  Printing,  which  in  Japan  dates  from  the  eighth 
century,  now  for  the  first  time  became  common.1 
Hideyoshi’s  armies,  returning  from  their  devastating 
raid  upon  Corea,  brought  with  them  a number  of  books 
printed  with  movable  types,  which  served  as  models 
for  the  Japanese  printers.  Iyeyasu  was  a liberal  patron 
of  the  printing-press.  Since  this  time  the  production 
of  printed  books  has  gone  on  at  an  increasing  rate,  and 
they  now  form  an  accumulation  which  is  truly  formi- 
dable in  amount. 

The  popularisation  of  literature  during  the  Yedo 
period  worked  for  evil  as  well  as  for  good.  Many  whole- 
some moral  and  religious  treatises  were  brought  within 
the  reach  of  the  nation  generally,  and  knowledge  was 
greatly  extended.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  average 
level  of  taste  and  refinement  was  distinctly  lowered,  and 
notwithstanding  the  well-meant  but  spasmodic  attempts 
of  the  Government  to  repress  it,  a flood  of  pornographic 
fiction  not  easily  to  be  paralleled  elsewhere  was  poured 
out  over  the  country. 

For  the  Buddhist  religion  the  Yedo  period  was  a time 
of  decadence.  Its  continued  popularity  is  attested  by 
the  vast  number  of  temples  which  were  erected  every- 
where, and  by  the  hosts  of  monks  who  were  maintained 
in  idleness.  But  its  influence  was  on  the  wane.  While 
Confucianism  became  the  creed  of  the  strong,  governing 
military  caste,  Buddhism  attached  itself  to  the  broken 

1 See  papers  on  the  “Early  History  of  Printing  in  Japan,”  by  Sir  Ernest 
Satow,  in  the  Japan  Asiatic  Society's  Transactions , voL  x.  I,  and  x.  2. 


YE  DO  PERIOD 


22 


fortunes  of  the  Mikados  and  their  court.  The  nation 
generally  was  gradually  awaking  to  a fuller  and  more 
vigorous  life,  and  homilies  on  the  instability  of  human 
things,  the  vanity  of  wealth  and  power,  the  detestableness 
of  violence  and  cruelty,  the  duty  of  abstinence  from  the 
grosser  pleasures,  and  the  beauty  of  a life  of  seclusion 
and  pious  meditation,  were  no  longer  so  much  to  their 
taste.  The  moral  principles  which  animated  politics  and 
literature  were  now  drawn  from  the  more  robust  and 
manly,  if  more  worldly,  teachings  of  the  Chinese  sages. 
But  of  this  more  remains  to  be  said  hereafter. 

Towards  the  end  of  this  period  there  was  a partial 
reaction  in  favour  of  the  old  Shinto  religion.  It  proved 
to  be  only  an  eddy  in  the  main  current  of  the  national 
thought,  and  is  chiefly  important  politically  as  one  of  the 
disintegrating  influences  which  led  to  the  breaking  up  of 
the  Tokugawa  regime. 

Compared  with  the  writings  of  the  Heian  or  classical 
period,  the  Yedo  literature  is  infinitely  more  voluminous, 
and  has  a far  wider  range  of  subjects.  It  comprises 
history,  biography,  poetry,  the  drama,  essays,  sermons,  a 
multitude  of  political  and  religious  treatises,  fiction  of 
various  kinds  and  travels,  with  a huge  mass  of  biblia 
abiblia , such  as  dictionaries,  grammars,  and  other  philo- 
logical works,  bibliographies,  medical  works,  treatises  on 
botany,  law,  the  art  of  war,  commentaries  on  the  Chinese 
classics  (in  themselves  a host),  expositions  of  Buddhist 
doctrine,  cyclopaedias,  antiquarian  and  metaphysical 
works,  guide-books,  and  so  on. 

But  while  the  new  literature  is  much  richer  and  of  a 
more  vigorous  growth  than  the  old,  there  is  a sad  falling 
off  in  point  of  form.  With  few  exceptions  it  is  disfigured 
by  the  grossest  and  most  glaring  faults.  Extravagance, 


222 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


false  sentiment,  defiance  of  probability  whether  physical 
or  moral,  pedantry,  pornography,  puns  and  other  mere- 
tricious ornaments  of  style,  intolerable  platitudes,  im- 
possible adventures,  and  weary  wastes  of  useless  detail 
meet  us  everywhere.  There  is  no  want  of  ability.  Plenty 
of  genuine  wit  and  humour  is  to  be  discovered  by  those 
who  know  where  to  look  for  it.  True  pathos  is  to  be 
met  with  in  works  otherwise  highly  objectionable ; ex- 
cellent moral  advice  is  only  too  abundant ; there  are 
graphic  descriptions  of  real  life,  prodigious  fertility  of 
invention,  a style  frequently  not  devoid  of  elegance,  and 
generally  a far  wider  range  of  thought  in  political  and 
social  matters  than  the  hedonist  literature  of  ancient 
Japan  could  boast.  It  is  the  writer  “ totus  teres  atque 
rotundus”  whose  absence  is  so  conspicuous.  Sane 
thought,  sustained  good  writing,  disciplined  imagination 
and  some  sense  of  order,  proportion  and  consistent 
method  are  sadly  to  seek  in  the  profusion  of  written  and 
printed  matter  which  this  period  has  left  to  us. 

The  Japanese  language  underwent  considerable  change 
at  this  time.  To  supply  the  needs  of  the  new  civilisa- 
tion a vast  increase  of  the  vocabulary  became  neces- 
sary, and  Chinese  words  were  adopted  so  freely  that 
they  now  far  outnumber  those  of  native  origin.  As 
in  English,  however,  the  latter  retain  their  position  for 
all  the  essentials  of  language.  At  the  same  time  the 
simplification  of  the  somewhat  cumbrous  grammatical 
system  of  the  old  language  made  still  further  progress.  . 

In  this  period  the  colloquial  speech,  which  had  been 
gradually  diverging  from  the  written  language  so  far  as 
at  last  to  necessitate  separate  grammars  for  its  elucida- 
tion, began  to  show  itself  in  literature.  Whether  its 
partisans  will  succeed  in  erecting  it  into  a literary  dialect 


TAIKOKI 


223 


remains  to  be  seen.  Up  to  the  present  their  success  has 
not  been  very  conspicuous.  It  will  require  far  more 
cultivation  than  has  yet  been  bestowed  upon  it  to  make 
it  equally  concise  and  perspicuous,  and  to  give  it  the 
same  range  of  varied  expression,  as  the  ordinary  literary 
language. 


The  “Taikoki” 

One  of  th^  earliest  works  of  the  Yedo  period  is  the 
Taikoki , a biography  of  the  Taiko,  or  Regent  Hideyoshi, 
in  twenty-two  books  (eleven  volumes).  Although  written 
only  twenty-seven  years  after  Hideyoshi's  death,  there 
had  already  been  time  for  his  history  to  acquire  a certain 
legendary  quality.  The  first  chapter  exemplifies  the  pro- 
pensity of  ignorant  mankind  for  surrounding  the  birth 
of  great  men  with  miraculous  occurrences.  The  Taikoki 
cannot  be  given  a high  place  as  literature,  but  it  is 
valuable  for  the  contemporary  documents  which  it  con- 
tains, and  has  supplied  material  for  a number  of  later 
works  bearing  the  same  or  similar  titles.  It  was  written 
in  1625  by  an  unknown  author. 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  KANGAKUSHA  (Chinese  Scholars) 

Towards  the  end  of  the  Muromachi  period,  learning  in 
Japan  had  reached  its  lowest  ebb.  Hideyoshi,  at  the 
height  of  his  power  and  fame,  was  an  ignorant  man,  as 
letters  written  by  him  remain  to  testify,  and  he  had  great 
difficulty  in  finding  scholars  competent  to  conduct  the 
negotiations  with  China  and  Corea  which  arose  out  of  his 
invasion  of  the  latter  country.  He  was,  however,  a friend 
of  learning.  His  successor  Iyeyasu  (1603-1632)  fully 
recognised  the  necessity  of  wider  knowledge  for  building 
up  the  new  social  and  political  fabric  which  he  created. 
His  patronage  of  printing  has  been  already  mentioned. 
He  also  established  schools,  and  devoted  much  attention 
to  the  collection  and  preservation  of  printed  books  and 
manuscripts.  A special  department  was  provided  by 
him,  where  he  employed  a staff  of  monks  in  copying  out 
the  family  records  of  the  Daimios. 

Among  the  scholars  who  enjoyed  Iyeyasu’s  patronage 
the  most  eminent  was  Fujiwara  Seikwa,  a native  of 
Harima,  where  he  was  born  in  1560.  Himself  a poet, 
he  was  a descendant  of  Fujiwara  Sadaiye,  a well-known 
Tanka-writer  of  the  thirteenth  century.  As  a boy  he  gave 
great  promise  of  talent.  He  received  the  Buddhist  ton- 
sure,  but  soon  recognised  the  emptiness  of  Buddhism, 

224 


SEIKWA 


225 


and  applied  himself  with  great  diligence  to  the  study  of 
the  ancient  Chinese  literature.  Finding,  however,  that 
the  difficulties  caused  by  the  want  of  competent  teachers 
and  suitable  text-books  were  too  great  for  him  to  sur- 
mount, he  macfe  up  his  mind  to  go  to  China  and  continue 
his  studies  there.  He  had  got  as  far  as  the  province  cf 
Satsuma,  and  was  waiting  for  a ship,  when  one  of  those 
apparently  trivial  incidents  occurred  which  exercise  a 
profound  influence  on  the  fate  of  a nation.  He  over- 
heard a boy  in  the  house  next  to  the  inn  where  he  was 
staying  read  aloud  from  a Chinese  book  which  was 
unfamiliar  to  him.  Upon  inquiry,  it  proved  to  be  a 
commentary  by  Chu-Hi  on  the  “ Great  Learning”  of 
Confucius.  A brief  examination  showed  him  its  im- 
portance. Equally  delighted  and  astonished,  Seikwa 
exclaimed,  “ This  is  what  I have  so  long  been  in  want 
of.”  Eventually  he  discovered  a complete  set  of  the 
philosophical  works  of  Ching  Hao  (1032-1085),  Cheng 
I.  (1033-1107),  and  Chu-Hi  (1130- 1200),  the  famous 
Chinese  schoolmen  and  expositors  of  the  doctrines  of 
Confucius  and  Mencius  under  the  Sung  dynasty.  He 
was  so  strongly  impressed  by  t’  eir  perusal,  that  he  re- 
solved to  abandon  his  intention  of  proceeding  to  China, 
and  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  their  study  at  home. 

Seikwa  subsequently  made  the  acquaintance  of  Iyeyasu 
at  the  camp  of  Nagoya,  where  Hideyoshi  was  then  pre- 
paring his  famous  invasion  of  Corea.  Iyeyasu  recognised 
his  merit,  and  sent  for  him  repeatedly  to  expound  the 
classics  ; but  Seikwa,  taking  offence  at  being  confounded 
with  the  rabble  of  ordinary  monks,  pretended  illness,  and 
having  introduced  as  his  substitute  his  pupil  Hayashi 
Rasan,  retired  to  a quiet  village  near  Kioto.  Here  pupils 
flocked  to  him  in  great  numbers,  many  of  them  the  sons 


226 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


of  court  nobles  or  Daimios ; and  he  also  received  flatter- 
ing offers  of  appointments,  all  of  which  he  declined.  In 
1614  he  was  offered  a post  as  teacher  in  connection  with 
a project  of  Iyeyasu’s  for  establishing  a school  at  Kioto. 
This  proposal  he  accepted,  but  some  civil  disorders  which 
broke  out  soon  after  rendered  this  scheme  abortive. 
Seikwa  died  in  1619  in  his  fifty-ninth  year.  He  left 
nothing  which  deserves  notice  as  literature  ; but  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  estimate  too  highly  the  service  he  per- 
formed by  making  known  to  his  countrymen  the  philo- 
sophical literature  of  the  Sung  schoolmen.  His  Kana 
Seiri  may  be  mentioned  as  a typical  example  of  his 
writings.  As  its  title  indicates,  it  is  an  attempt  to  facilitate 
the  study  of  the  Sung  philosophy  in  Japan. 

The  whole  literature  of  the  Yedo  period  is  so  thoroughly 
pervaded  by  moral  principles  and  ideals  based  on  this 
system  of  thought,  that  it  is  desirable  to  give  a brief  out- 
line of  it  here.  Those  who  wish  to  make  themselves 
more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  it  will  find  the  means 
of  doing  so  in  Monseigneur  de  Harlez’s  Ecole  Philoso- 
phique  de  la  Chine , and  some  able  papers  contributed  by 
Dr.  Knox  and  others  to  the  Journal  of  the  Asiatic  Society 
of  Japan  in  1892. 

Professedly  an  exposition  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
ancient  Chinese  sages,  the  Sung  philosophy  is  in  reality 
an  essentially  modern  system  of  ontology,  ethics,  natural 
philosophy,  and  principles  of  government,  subjects  which 
to  the  Chinese  mind  are  inseparable. 

According  to  Chu-Hi,  the  origin  and  cause  of  all  things 
is  Taikhi  (Taikyoku  in  Japanese)  or  the  “ Great  Absolute. ' 
The  energy  evolved  by  its  movement  produced  the  Yang 
(Yd  in  Japanese),  and  when  it  came  to  rest,  the  Yin  (In 
in  Japanese)  was  the  result.  The  Yang  is  the  active, 


CHINESE  PHILOSOPHY 


227 


positive,  productive,  male  principle  of  nature,  while  the 
Yin  is  regarded  as  passive  or  receptive,  negative  and 
female.  By  the  mutual  action  of  these  two  principles 
the  Kosmos  was  formed  out  of  chaos,  the  Yin  manifest- 
ing itself  in  the  settling  down  of  the  impure  sediment  as 
earth,  while  the  lighter  and  purer  part,  representing  the 
Yang , ascended  and  formed  heaven.  The  Yin  and 
Yang  are  also  the  source  of  the  five  elements,  water,  fire, 
earth,  metal,  and  wood.  Each  of  these  has  its  proper 
function,  on  the  right  discharge  of  which  depend  the 
regular  sequence  of  the  four  seasons  and  phenomena 
generally.  These  processes  go  on  eternally.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  a creation  in  this  system.  The  energy 
which  produces  all  these  results  is  called  in  Chinese  Key 
in  Japanese  Ki  (Breath).  It  follows  fixed  laws  called 
Li  ( Ri  in  Japanese).  The  precise  nature  of  these  two 
last  conceptions  has  been  elucidated  (or  obscured)  by 
many  volumes  of  dissertations  both  in  China  and  Japan. 

Chu-Hi  says  little  of  Ten  (Heaven).  In  his  philosophy 
its  place  is  taken  by  the  more  impersonal  Taikhi . But 
in  Japan,  as  with  Confucius  and  Mencius,  Ten  is  all- 
important.  It  is  the  nearest  approach  to  a deity  which 
the  essentially  impersonal  habit  of  mind  of  these  nations 
permits.  Ten  or  Tendo  (the  Way  of  Heaven)  is  said 
“to  know,”  “to  command,”  “to  reward,”  “to  punish,”  or 
“to  be  wroth,”  and  is  looked  up  to  with  reverence  and 
grateful  emotion.  But  the  conception  falls  short  of  that 
of  a personal  deity  as  we  understand  the  phrase.  There 
are  in  Japan,  at  any  rate,  no  temples  to  Ten , no  litanies, 
and  no  formal  acts  of  worship. 

Ethics  are  in  the  Chu-Hi  system  a branch  of  natural 
philosophy.  Corresponding  to  the  regular  changes  of 
the  seasons  in  nature  is  right  action  in  man  (who  is  the 


228 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


crown  of  nature)  in  the  relations  of  sovereign  and  sub- 
ject, parent  and  child,  elder  brother  and  younger  brother, 
husband  and  wife,  friend  and  friend.  To  his  sovereign 
or  lord  he  is  bound  to  be  faithful,  to  his  parents  dutiful, 
and  to  his  elder  brother  respectful.  Affection  should 
characterise  the  relations  of  husband  and  wife,  and  trust 
that  of  friend  with  friend.  A man  should  also  display  in 
his  conduct  the  five  virtues  of  Goodness,  Righteousness, 
Propriety,  Enlightenment,  and  Good  Faith.  The  same 
combination  of  ethics  and  natural  science  is  implied  in 
Confucius’s  doctrine  when  he  says  that  the  command  of 
Heaven  is  called  natural  disposition,  accordance  with 
this  natural  disposition  is  called  the  path  (of  duty),  the 
regulation  of  this  path  is  called  instruction.  Man’s  heart 
is  naturally  good.  In  like  manner  Kiuso,  a Japanese 
exponent  of  the  Chu-Hi  philosophy,  says,  “Man  makes 
the  heart  of  heaven  and  earth  [nature,  we  would  say] 
his  own.” 

Principles  of  government  are  also  found  a place  in  this 
philosophy.  If  the  sovereign  practises  the  virtues  above 
described  in  his  own  person,  the  people  will  naturally 
imitate  his  example,  and  good  government  will  be  the 
result.  But  the  necessity  of  dealing  out  justly  rewards 
and  punishments,  of  encouraging  sages  to  lead  the  people 
in  the  right  way,  and  of  purity  in  making  appointments, 
is  not  lost  sight  of. 

The  Japanese  have  added  little  or  nothing  to  Chu-Hi’s 
philosophy.  It  is  in  its  application  that  the  national 
genius  reveals  itself,  and  more  especially  in  the  relative 
importance  attached  by  them  to  the  various  moral  obliga- 
tions incumbent  on  man. 

It  is  here  that  we  must  look  for  an  answer  to  a question 
which  will  occur  to  all  who  take  the  smallest  interest  in 


ETHICS  OF  YEDO  PERIOD  22$ 

the  Japanese,  namely  u In  what  respect  does  their  national 
character  differ  from  that  of  European  nations  ? ” 

The  vices  and  virtues  are  on  the  whole  the  same  with 
them  as  with  ourselves.  It  is  in  their  “ Table  of  Moral 
Precedence/’  as  it  were,  that  we  discover  some  striking 
differences.  The  most  noteworthy  instance  of  this  is  the 
commanding  position  assigned  to  loyalty,  which  in  the 
moral  ideas  of  this  period  overshadows  and  dwarfs  all 
other  obligations.  It  means  not  so  much  the  reverent 
submission  due  by  all  his  subjects  to  the  Mikado,  although 
in  theory  this  was  not  lost  sight  of,  as  of  the  Daimios  to 
the  Shogun,  and,  in  a still  higher  degree,  of  men  of  the 
two-sworded  class  to  their  immediate  chiefs.  Implicit 
obedience  and  Unfaltering  devotion  to  his  feudal  lord  was 
the  Samurai's  most  sacred  duty.  For  his  lord’s  sake  the 
retainer  was  bound  not  only  to  lay  down  his  own  life 
cheerfully,  but  to  sacrifice  the  lives  and  honour  of  those 
nearest  and  dearest  to  him.  Japanese  history  and  litera- 
ture teem  with  instances  which  show  the  extreme  lengths 
to  which  this  virtue  wTas  carried,  not  only  in  theory,  but 
in  practice.  It  was  responsible  for  many  acts  of  barbarity, 
such  as  that  of  Nakamitsu,  a favourite  hero  of  Japanese 
drama  and  story,  who  slew  his  own  innocent  son,  and 
substituted  his  head  for  that  of  his  lord’s  heir,  who  had 
been  guilty  of  a capital  offence.  But  there  was  also 
associated  with  it  unshrinking  courage,  loyal  service,  and 
disinterested  self-sacrifice  to  a degree  for  which  we  must 
go  to  ancient  Rome  to  find  a parallel.  The  political 
system  of  which  this  virtue  was  the  vital  support  is  now 
a thing  of  the  past.  Daimios  and  Shoguns  exist  no 
longer.  But  those  who  know  the  Japan  of  the  present 
day  will  readily  recognise  the  same  quality  in  the  spirit 

of  national  patriotism  and  zeal  in  the  discharge  of  public 
16 


230  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

duty  which  honourably  distinguish  the  descendants  of 
the  former  Samurai. 

Next  after  loyalty  in  the  Japanese  scale  of  virtues  stands 
filial  piety.  The  State  being  composed  of  families,  if 
the  family  is  badly  managed,  the  State  cannot  be  well 
governed.  If  the  child  is  disobedient  to  his  parents,  he 
is  not  likely  to  prove  a loyal  and  obedient  subject  when 
he  grows  to  manhood.  Hence  the  necessity,  from  a 
political  point  of  view,  of  filial  piety.  On  the  extreme 
importance  attached  to  this  virtue  both  in  China  and 
Japan  it  is  needless  to  dilate. 

Among  the  chief  duties  of  a Samurai  to  his  lord,  or  of 
a child  towards  his  parent,  was  that  of  revenge.  The 
forgiveness  of  injuries  had  no  place  in  the  moral  code 
of  the  Japanese  of  this  time.  No  more  stern  obligation 
rested  on  them  than  to  execute  dire  vengeance  for  the 
unmerited  death  or  disgrace  of  a parent  or  lord.  That 
this  was  not  in  theory  only,  there  are  many  well-authenti- 
cated instances  in  real  life  to  show.  It  applied  to  women 
as  well  as  to  men,  though  in  their  case,  as  in  that  of  the 
lower  classes  of  society,  it  was  regarded  more  or  less  as 
a counsel  of  perfection.  If  they  did  rise  to  the  occasion, 
all  the  more  honour  was  paid  them.  The  drama  and 
fiction  of  modern  Japan  are  full  of  stories  of  revenge 
( kataki-uchi),  and  this  passion  occupies  the  same  place 
of  honour  with  their  novelists  that  love  does  in  European 
fiction. 

In  presence  of  the  obligations  imposed  by  loyalty  and 
filial  duty,  life  was  regarded  as  of  no  account.  When 
we  remember  the  humane  Buddhist  influences  to  which 
Japan  was  so  long  subjected,  and  the  ancient  national 
character  reflected  in  the  mildly  sentimental  Heian  litera- 
ture, the  disregard  of  human  life  which  perv?des  history 


ETHICS  OF  YEDO  PERIOD 


231 


and  fiction  alike  during  the  Yedo  period  is  not  a little 
remarkable.  It  is  conspicuously  observable  in  the  ethics 
of  suicide.  The  moral  code  of  this  time  contains  no 
canon  'gainst  self-slaughter.  On  the  contrary,  the  occa- 
sions when  a Japanese  Samurai  was  bound  to  commit 
suicide  were  innumerable.  Grave  insults  which  it  was 
impossible  to  revenge,  unmerited  disgrace,  gross  blunder- 
ing, errors  of  judgment,  or  even  simple  failure  in  official 
matters,  crimes  not  of  a disgraceful  character,  all  entailed 
the  necessity  of  suicide,  or  at  least  made  it  the  most 
honourable  course  to  pursue.  If  a Samurai  had  occa- 
sion to  remonstrate  with  his  lord  for  some  act  of  mis- 
government,  he  frequently  emphasised  his  appeal  by 
suicide.  The  case  of  the  forty-seven  Ronins  who  slew 
themselves  in  a body  at  the  grave  of  their  master  after 
having  executed  a bloody  revenge  on  his  enemy,  is  known 
to  all  readers  of  Mr.  Mitford’s  Tales  of  Old Japan.  Another 
admired  example  is  that  of  a governor  of  Nagasaki  who 
in  1808  committed  suicide  in  the  approved  manner  be- 
cause he  was  unable  to  detain  and  destroy  a British  man- 
of-war  which  had  defied  his  authority.  The  case  of  the 
last  of  the  Shoguns  may  also  be  quoted.  On  the  down- 
fall of  his  power  in  1867  he  was  urged  by  one  of  his 
Council  to  save  the  honour  of  his  family  by  a voluntary 
suicide.  He  flatly  refused  to  do  so  and  left  the  room, 
whereupon  his  faithful  adviser  retired  to  another  part  of 
the  castle  and  solemnly  performed  the  hara-kiri .1  Of 
suicides,  attempted  suicides,  or  threatened  suicides  of 
men,  women,  and  children,  on  the  stage  and  in  fiction, 
there  is  simply  no  end. 

Human  nature  being  the  same  everywhere,  the  duties 

1 Literally  “ belly-cut,”  a term  which  some  English  wag  has  thought  fit  to 
render  by  ‘ ‘ happy  despatch.  ” 


232  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

arising  out  of  the  relations  of  the  sexes  are  essentially 
the  same  in  Japan  as  in  Europe.  Chastity,  both  in  men 
and  women,  is  a virtue,  as  it  is  with  ourselves.  But  in 
the  Yedo  period  it  was  thrust  into  the  background  by  the 
more  urgent  claims  of  loyalty  and  filial  duty.  In  theory 
a man  should  have  but  one  wife.  In  the  case  of  the 
heads  of  great  houses,  one  or  even  more  concubines  were 
allowed,  but  only  with  the  bond  fide  object  of  having 
children.  Vulgar  licentiousness  was  condemned,  and  in 
the  case  of  officials  was  visited  with  severe  punishment. 

The  position  of  the  wife,  as  of  women  generally,  was 
very  different  in  the  Yedo  period  from  what  it  had  been 
in  earlier  times.  Chinese  notions  of  the  absolute  sub- 
jection and  the  seclusion,  as  far  as  possible,  of  the  sex, 
made  great  progress.  Women  were  now  rarely  heard  of 
in  public  life,  and  disappear  completely  from  the  world 
of  literature — a significant  fact  when  we  remember  the 
feminine  masterpieces  of  the  Heian  period.  A woman's 
first  duty  was  to  be  faithful  and  obedient  to  her  husband. 
Second  marriages  of  widows  were  not  absolutely  for- 
bidden, but  women  who  refused  to  contract  such  unions 
were  highly  commended,  and  when  we  meet  with  the 
word  “ chastity”  in  a Japanese  book,  it  is  generally  this 
form  of  the  virtue  which  is  meant.  A wife  was  bound 
to  revenge  her  husband’s  murder,  and  in  fiction  at  least 
was  permitted  to  sacrifice  her  own  honour  with  this 
praiseworthy  object.  Some  European  travellers  and 
novelists  speak  as  if  an  unmarried  woman’s  maiden  fame 
were  a thing  of  no  account  in  Japan.  This  is  simple 
nonsense.  But  it  can  hardly  be  denied  that  more  par- 
ticularly in  their  case  chastity  holds  a lower  place  in  the 
scale  of  virtues  than  in  Christian  countries.  According 
to  the  code  of  morality  of  novelists  and  dramatists,  it  is 


ETHICS  OF  YEDO  PERIOD 


233 


permissible  for,  and  even  obligatory  on,  a girl  to  allow 
herself  to  be  sold  into  prostitution  in  order  to  support 
her  destitute  parents.  Incidents  of  this  kind  are  very 
common  indeed  in  their  pages. 

The  harlot  figures  very  prominently  in  the  literature 
of  the  Yedo  period,  and  in  Japan,  as  elsewhere,  writers 
have  not  been  wanting  who  have  done  their  best  to 
surround  this  calling  with  a halo  of  romance.  But,  as 
Mitford  has  shown,  Japanese  opinion  on  this  subject  is 
on  the  whole  sound.  There  may  be  some  difference  of 
degree,  but  of  the  substantial  identity  of  the  feeling  with 
which  prostitution  is  regarded  by  them  and  by  ourselves 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  The  proverb,  “ When  you  find 
an  honest  harlot  and  a three-cornered  egg,  the  moon  will 
appear  on  the  last  day  of  the  [lunar]  month,"  very  clearly 
indicates  the  general  opinion  of  this  class. 

Piety,  by  which  must  be  understood  a devotion  to 
Buddhist  religious  practices,  was  not  in  high  estimation 
under  the  Tokugawas.  It  is  not  a distinctive  virtue  of 
the  Japanese  character  at  any  period  of  their  history. 

On  the  extreme  punctiliousness  and  ceremony  which 
characterised  all  the  doings  of  a well-bred  Japanese,  of 
his  sensitiveness  on  the  point  of  honour,  and  of  his  cult 
of  the  sword  as  a sort  of  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of  the 
Samurai,  this  is  not  the  place  to  dilate.  Nor  need  any- 
thing be  said  of  the  virtues  of  frugality,  sobriety,  honesty, 
and  liberality,  as  they  hold  practically  the  same  position 
in  Japan  as  with  ourselves.  The  duties  of  superiors  to 
their  inferiors,  of  a lord  to  his  retainer,  of  a father  to  his 
son,  and  of  a husband  towards  his  wife,  may  also  be  taken 
for  granted.  Though  less  frequently  insisted  upon,  they 
are  by  no  means  passed  over  by  the  Japanese  moralist. 

As  time  went  on,  the  code  of  morals  derived  from  the 


234  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

teachings  of  the  philosophers  of  China,  and  expounded 
and  applied  by  their  Japanese  followers,  gained  in  pre- 
cision and  detail.  But  what  had  originally  been  a whole- 
some and  vivifying  influence  became  a burden  to  the 
nation.  It  fell  most  heavily  on  the  Samurai,  all  whose 
actions  were  governed  by  strict  rules  and  punctilious 
etiquette,  in  a way  which  was  fatal  to  any  reasonable 
share  of  personal  freedom.  In  short,  the  great  fault  of 
the  later  Shogunate  was  over-regulation  in  almost  every 
department  of  life.  I was  one  day  walking  with  the  late 
Count  Terashima,  then  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  in  one 
of  those  beautiful  creations  of  the  landscape  gardener's 
art  which  abound  in  Tokio.  He  pointed  to  a grove  of 
fir-trees  standing  by  an  artificial  lake,  which  had  been 
trimmed  and  trained  by  generations  of  gardeners  into 
quaint  and  not  unpleasing  but  stunted  shapes.  “ There," 
he  said,  “is  an  emblem  of  the  Japanese  nation  under  the 
Bakufu  [ShogunateJ.  That  is  what  Chinese  learning  did 
for  us." 

There  is  much  in  this  type  of  humanity  which  it  is 
hard  for  us  Europeans  to  understand  and  appreciate. 
The  Japanese  of  the  ancient  classical  period  appeal  more 
strongly  to  our  sympathies.  Even  Herodotus  and  Plato, 
far  removed  as  they  are  from  us  in  point  of  time,  are 
immeasurably  nearer  to  modern  Englishmen  in  all  their 
ideas,  sentiments,  and  moral  standards,  than  the  Japanese 
of  fifty  years  ago. 

Fujiwara  Seikwa  was  the  forerunner  of  a long  series  of 
Kangakusha.  His  pupils  became  in  their  turn  teachers, 
and  handed  on  the  torch  of  learning,  which  now  began 
to  burn  brightly.  It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
rage  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  which  possessed 
the  Japanese  people  during  the  seventeenth  century.  It 


DOSHUN 


235 

can  only  be  compared  to  the  passion  for  European 
learning  of  the  last  thirty  years. 

Following  the  example  of  the  great  founder  of  their 
dynasty,  the  Tokugawa  Shoguns  encouraged  learning  by. 
every  means  in  their  power.  They  founded  libraries  and 
colleges,  subsidised  professors,  and  were  liberal  of  their 
favours  to  all  eminent  scholars.  Tsunayoshi,  the  fifth 
Tokugawa  Shogun  (1680-1709),  an  indifferent  ruler,  was 
passionately  fond  of  learning.  He  surrounded  himself 
with  scholars,  and  spent  all  his  leisure  time  in  study. 
He  used  even  to  deliver  lectures  on  the  Chinese  classics 
to  audiences  composed  of  Daimios  and  high  officials, 
Shinto  functionaries  and  Buddhist  priests.  It  was  in  his 
time  that  Yedo  began  to  take  prominence  as  a literary 
centre. 

The  Daimios,  in  their  turn,  vied  with  one  another  in 
attracting  distinguished  Kangakusha  to  their  service,  and 
in  establishing  high  schools  for  the  teaching  of  the 
classics,  Chinese  and  Japanese  history  and  composition. 
Nor  were  the  people  neglected.  Nearly  every  temple 
had  a tci'akoya  attached  to  it,  where  the  children  of 
peasants,  mechanics,  and  tradespeople  were  instructed 
in  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic. 

It  is  impossible  to  notice  all  the  Kangakusha  who 
flourished  at  this  time,  or  to  enumerate  their  most  volu- 
minous writings.  They  do  not  take  high  rank  as  litera- 
ture. A word  of  mention  is  due,  however,  to  Hayashi 
Rasan,  also  called  Doshun,  with  half-a-dozen  other 
aliases,  which  it  is  needless  to  reproduce  here.  All  the 
Kangakusha  indulged  in  a profusion  of  aliases,  much  to 
the  confusion  of  bibliographers  and  writers  on  Japanese 
literature.  Doshun  (b.  1583,  d.  1657)  was  a pupil  of 
Seikwa.  He  was  a devoted  student,  and  never  passed  a 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


236 

day  in  his  life  without  reading  something.  It  is  related 
of  him  that  once,  when  obliged  to  flee  from  his  house  by 
a great  conflagration,  he  took  some  books  with  him  in 
.his  kago , and  continued  his  work  of  annotation  on  the 
way.  The  list  of  his  publications  comprises  one  hundred 
and  seventy  separate  treatises,  mostly  of  a scholastic  or 
moral  character.  There  are  also  some  memoirs  use- 
ful to  the  historian,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  volumes 
of  miscellanies,  essays,  &c.  He  held  an  official  position 
under  the  Shogun's  Government,  by  which  he  was  em- 
ployed in  drafting  laws,  and  in  giving  advice  on  knotty 
questions  which  required  learning  for  their  solution. 
He  was  the  founder  of  a long  line  of  official  Kangakusha 
which  lasted  until  the  downfall  of  the  Shogunate  in 
1867. 

His  son,  Hayashi  Shunsai  (1618-1680)  compiled  about 
1652  a history  of  Japan  entitled  O-dai-ichi-ran.  It  is  in 
every  respect  a very  poor  production,  and  is  only  men- 
tioned here  because  a translation  into  French  by  Klaproth 
was  published  by  the  Oriental  Translation  Fund  in  1835. 

Passing  over  a number  of  scholars  deservedly  remem- 
bered with  gratitude  in  their  own  country  for  their  ser- 
vices to  learning  and  good  morals,  we  come  to  Kaibara 
Yekken  (1630-1714),  who  was  born  at  Fukuoka,  in 
Chikuzen,  of  the  Daimios  of  which  province  his  family 
were  hereditary  retainers.  His  father  held  an  official 
appointment  as  physician,  and  Yekken  himself  acquired 
some  proficiency  in  the  art  of  medicine.  His  first 
teacher  was  his  elder  brother,  under  whose  instructions 
he  was  weaned  of  a liking  for  Buddhism,  and  devoted 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  Chinese  classics.  When  he 
grew  up  to  manhood  he  went  to  reside  in  Kioto,  where 
he  benefited  by  the  instruction  of  Kinoshita  Junan  and 


YEKKEN 


237 


other  scholars.  He  had,  however,  no  regular  teacher. 
After  three  years  spent  in  study  he  returned  to  his 
province,  where  he  held  honourable  official  posts  under 
three  successive  Daimios  until  1700,  when  he  retired  on 
a pension,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  Kioto,  where  he 
spent  the  remainder  of  his  days.  His  wife  is  said  to 
have  been  an  accomplished  woman.  She  accompanied 
him  on  his  travels  to  various  parts  of  Japan,  and  assisted 
him  in  his  literary  labours. 

Yekken  was  a voluminous  writer,  and  in  the  course  of 
a long  life  (the  Kangakusha  were  remarkable  for  longe- 
vity) produced  over  a hundred  different  works,  compris- 
ing moral  treatises,  commentaries  on  the  Chinese  classics, 
learned  dissertations  on  Japanese  philology,  botanical 
works,  and  books  of  travel.  His  sole  object  in  writing 
was  to  benefit  his  countrymen  ; and  his  style,  though 
manly  and  vigorous,  is  wholly  devoid  of  rhetorical  orna- 
ment, and  of  those  frivolities  of  language  which  were  so 
freely  indulged  in  by  contemporary  novelists  and  drama- 
tists. He  used  the  Kana  or  native  phonetic  script  as  far 
as  possible,  so  as  to  bring  his  teachings  down  to  the  level 
of  children  and  ignorant  people.  Though  perhaps  the 
most  eminent  scholar  of  his  day,  there  is  not  an  atom  of 
pedantry  about  him.  No  Japanese  books  are  more  easy 
of  comprehension  than  his.  Their  principal  fault  is  one 
very  common  with  Japanese  writers  of  the  Yedo  period, 
namely,  diffuseness  and  repetition. 

Due  allowance  being  made  for  his  age  and  country, 
Yekken's  writings  are  full  of  excellent  morality  of  a plain, 
common-sense  description.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  over- 
estimate their  influence,  or  the  service  which  he  rendered 
to  his  country  by  his  teachings. 

The  following  detached  sentences  from  the  Dojikun , a 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


238 

treatise  on  education,  composed  by  him  at  the  age  of 
eighty,  will  give  some  idea  of  their  quality.  They  have 
been  somewhat  abridged  in  translation. 

“ In  the  houses  of  the  great,  good  persons  should  be 
chosen  from  the  first  to  be  attached  to  the  child.  Even 
the  poor  should  be  careful,  so  far  as  their  circumstances 
will  permit,  that  their  children  should  associate  with  good 
people.  This  is  the  teaching  of  the  [Chinese]  sages.” 

“A  wet-nurse  should  be  of  a gentle  disposition,  staid 
and  grave  of  demeanour,  and  of  few  words.” 

“ A boy's  education  should  begin  from  the  time  when 
he  can  eat  rice,  speak  a little,  and  show  pleasure  or 
anger.” 

“ Some  nurses  make  cowards  of  children  by  wantonly 
telling  them  frightful  stories.  Ghost  stories  and  the  like 
should  not  be  told  to  children.  They  should  not  be  too 
warmly  clad,  or  have  too  much  to  eat.” 

“ Cunning,  chattering,  lying  women  should  not  be 
engaged  as  nurses.  Drunkards,  self-willed  or  malicious 
persons  should  also  be  avoided.” 

“ From  their  infancy,  truth  in  word  and  thought  should 
be  made  of  the  first  importance.  Children  should  be 
severely  punished  for  lying  or  deceit.  Let  their  parents 
be  careful  not  to  deceive  them,  for  this  is  another  way  of 
teaching  them  to  deceive.” 

“A  tutor  should  be  a man  of  upright  life.  A child 
should  not  be  put  to  learn  of  a disreputable  person,  no 
matter  how  clever  he  may  be.” 

“ Better  for  a child  to  lose  a year’s  study  than  consort 
for  a day  with  a base  companion.” 

11  Every  night  the  child’s  sayings  and  actions  during 
the  day  should  be  reviewed,  and  if  necessary,  punishment 
administered.” 


YEKICEN 


239 


“ At  the  age  of  ten  a boy  should  go  to  school.  If  he 
remains  longer  at  home  he  is  apt  to  be  spoiled  by  his 
parents." 

“ Before  sitting  down  to  study,  a boy  should  wash  his 
hands,  set  a guard  upon  his  thoughts,  and  compose  his 
countenance.  He  should  brush  the  dust  off  his  desk, 
place  his  books  upon  it  in  an  orderly  manner,  and  read 
them  in  a kneeling  posture.  When  he  is  reading  to  his 
teacher,  he  should  not  rest  his  book  on  a high  desk,  but 
on  its  case  or  on  a low  stand.  It  should  certainly  not  be 
placed  on  the  floor.  Books  should  be  kept  clean,  and 
when  they  are  no  longer  required,  the  covers  should  be 
put  on,  and  they  should  be  put  back  in  their  place.  This 
should  be  done  even  when  the  pupil  is  called  away  for 
some  urgency.  Books  should  not  be  flung  about,  stridden 
over,  or  used  as  pillows.  The  corners  should  not  be 
turned  down,  or  spittle  used  to  raise  the  leaves.  If  waste 
paper  contains  texts  from  the  classics  or  the  names  of 
sages,  boys  should  be  careful  not  to  apply  it  to  common 
purposes.  Nor  should  waste  paper  with  the  names  of 
one's  parents  or  lord  be  defiled." 

Yekken  devotes  the  third  volume  of  the  Dojikun  to  the 
education  of  girls.  The  two  great  virtues  of  a woman 
are,  in  his  opinion,  amiability  and  obedience.  In  another 
place  he  sums  up  the  good  qualities  of  a woman  as — 

“ 1st.  A womanly  disposition,  as  shown  in  modesty 
and  submissiveness. 

“ 2nd.  Womanly  language.  She  should  be  careful  in 
the  choice  of  words,  and  avoid  lying  and  unseemly  ex- 
pressions. She  should  speak  when  necessary,  and  be 
silent  at  other  times.  She  should  not  be  averse  to  listen- 
ing to  others. 

“ 3rd.  Womanly  apparel.  She  should  be  cleanly,  avoid 


240  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

undue  ornament,  and  have  a proper  regard  to  taste  and 
refinement. 

“4th.  Womanly  arts.  These  include  sewing,  reeling 
silk,  making  clothes,  and  cooking. 

“ Everything  impure  should  be  kept  from  a girl’s 
ears.  Popular  songs  and  the  popular  drama  are  not 
for  them.  The  Ise  Monogatari  and  Genji  Monogatari 
are  objectionable  on  account  of  their  immoral  tend- 
ency.” 

Yekken  recommends  parents  to  write  out  the  follow- 
ing thirteen  counsels  and  give  them  to  their  daughters 
on  their  marriage.  I have  abbreviated  them  a good 
deal. 

“ 1.  Be  respectful  and  obedient  to  your  parents-in-law. 

“ 2.  A woman  has  no  [feudal]  lord.  She  should  rever- 
ence and  obey  her  husband  instead. 

“ 3.  Cultivate  friendly  relations  with  your  husband's 
relatives. 

"4.  Avoid  jealousy.  If  your  husband  offends,  remon- 
strate with  him  gently,  without  hate  or  anger. 

“ 5.  Generally,  when  your  husband  does  wrong,  it  is 
your  duty  to  remonstrate  with  him  gently  and  affection- 
ately. 

“ 6.  Be  of  few  words.  Avoid  abusive  language  and 
falsehood. 

“ 7.  Be  always  circumspect  in  your  behaviour.  Get 
up  early.  Go  to  bed  at  midnight.  Do  not  indulge  in  a 
siesta.  Attend  diligently  to  the  work  of  the  house.  Do 
not  become  addicted  to  sake  or  tea.  Avoid  listening  to 
lewd  songs  or  music.  Shinto  shrines  and  Buddhist 
temples  being  public  resorts  for  pleasure,  should  be 
sparingly  visited  before  the  age  of  forty. 

“ 8.  Have  nothing  to  do  with  fortune-tellers  or 


YEKKEN 


24 1 

mediums,  and  do  not  offend  the  gods  and  Buddha  by  too 
familiar  importunities.  Attend  to  your  human  duties, 
and  do  not  let  your  heart  run  astray  after  invisible 
supernatural  beings. 

“9.  Economy  in  domestic  matters  is  all-important. 

“ 10.  Keep  young  men  at  a distance.  On  no  account 
have  any  written  correspondence  with  them.  Male 
domestics  should  not  be  allowed  to  enter  the  women's 
apartments. 

“ 11.  Avoid  conspicuous  colours  and  patterns  in  your 
dress.  Choose  those  suitable  for  a somewhat  older 
person  than  yourself. 

“12.  In  everything  your  husband  and  his  parents 
should  come  before  your  own  parents. 

“ 13.  Do  not  attend  to  the  tattle  of  female  servants." 

This  is  commonplace  enough.  But  Yekken  could  rise 
to  higher  flights  on  occasion,  as  the  following  extract 
from  a treatise  on  the  philosophy  of  pleasure  ( Raku-kun ) 
will  show.  The  sentiment  is  of  a distinctly  Words- 
worthian quality. 

“ If  we  make  inward  pleasures  our  chief  aim,  and  use 
the  ears  and  eyes  simply  as  the  means  of  procuring  such 
delights  from  without,  we  shall  not  be  molested  by  the 
lusts  of  these  senses.  If  we  open  our  hearts  to  the  beauty 
of  heaven,  earth,  and  the  ten  thousand  created  things, 
they  will  yield  us  pleasure  without  limit,  pleasure  always 
before  our  eyes,  night  and  morning,  full  and  overflowing. 
The  man  who  takes  delight  in  such  things  becomes  the 
owner  of  the  mountains  and  streams,  of  the  moon  and 
flowers,  and  needs  not  to  pay  his  court  to  others  in  order 
to  enjoy  them.  They  are  not  bought  with  treasure. 
Without  the  expenditure  of  a single  cash  he  may  use 
them  to  his  heart’s  content,  and  yet  never  exhaust  them. 


242 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


And  although  he  enjoys  possession  of  them  as  his  own, 
no  man  will  wrangle  with  him  in  order  to  deprive  him  of 
them.  The  reason  is  that  the  beauty  of  mountain  and 
river,  moon  and  flowers,  has  from  the  beginning  no  fixed 
owner. 

“He  who  knows  the  boundless  sources  of  delight 
which  are  thus  contained  in  the  universe,  and  who 
finds  his  enjoyment  therein,  envies  not  the  luxurious 
pleasures  of  the  rich  and  great  ; for  such  enjoyments 
are  beyond  those  of  wealth  and  honours.  He  who  is 
unconscious  of  them  cannot  enjoy  the  delectable  things 
in  the  greatest  abundance  which  are  every  day  before 
his  eyes. 

“ Vulgar  pleasures,  even  before  they  pass,  become  a 
torment  to  the  body.  If,  for  example,  carried  away  by 
desire,  we  eat  and  drink  our  fill  of  dainty  things,  it  is 
pleasant  at  first,  but  disease  and  suffering  soon  follow. 
In  general,  vulgar  pleasures  corrupt  the  heart,  injure  the 
constitution,  and  end  in  misery.  The  pleasures  of  the 
man  of  worth,  on  the  other  hand,  nourish  the  heart  and 
do  not  entice  us  astray.  To  speak  in  terms  of  outward 
things,  the  pleasures  which  we  derive  from  the  love  of 
the  moon  or  of  flowers,  from  gazing  on  the  hills  and 
streams,  from  humming  to  the  wind  or  following  the 
flight  of  birds  with  envy,  are  of  a mild  nature.  We  may  ■ 
take  delight  in  them  all  day  long  and  do  ourselves  no 
harm.  Man  will  not  blame  us,  nor  God  remonstrate 
with  us  for  indulgence  in  it.  It  is  easy  to  be  attained,  • 
even  by  the  poor  and  needy,  and  has  no  ill  consequences. 
The  rich  and  great,  absorbed  in  luxury  and  indolence, 
know  not  these  pleasures;  but  the  poor  man,  little  affected 
by  such  hindrances,  may  readily  procure  them  if  he  only 
chooses  to  do  so.” 


YEKKEN 


243 


On  Gardening 

“ When  you  move  into  a house  your  first  care  ought  to 
be  to  plant  fruit-trees.  Others  may  come  after.  Fore- 
thought for  ten  years  consists  in  planting  trees.  In 
planting,  fruit  should  come  first,  flowers  should  be  your 
next  care,  and  foliage  last  of  all.  Fruit  is  of  the  greatest 
use  to  man  ; and  fruit-trees  should  be  planted  in  large 
numbers,  particularly  the  orange  and  the  lime.  When 
their  fruit  has  formed  and  ripened,  it  is  not  inferior  in 
beauty  to  flowers.  In  planting  persimmons,  pears,  chest- 
nuts, and  pepper,  the  best  sorts  should  be  selected.  For 
flowering  trees,  the  ordinary  plum  should  come  first. 
The  red-blossomed  plum  is  also  good,  and  the  cherry. 
It  is  a pity  it  sheds  its  flowers  so  soon.  The  camellia 
remains  long  in  bloom,  and  its  leaves  are  beautiful.  It 
grows  readily  from  cuttings,  and  blossoms  early.  The 
kaido  [Pyrus  spectabilis\  and  azaleas  of  different  kinds, 
are  also  to  be  commended.  For  foliage-trees,  choose 
the  cryptomeria,  the  Thuya  obtusa , the  podocarpus,  and 
evergreen-trees  generally.  Bamboos  should  be  planted 
on  the  northern  side,  as  a protection  against  fire  and 
wind.  They  may  be  cut  down  from  time  to  time,  and 
put  away  for  u e on  occasion.  In  the  front  garden  plant 
willows,  cherry-trees,  firs,  and  cryptomerias.  Avoid 
planting  too  thickly  ; it  makes  too  much  moisture,  and 
in  summer  harbours  mosquitoes,  which  are  a plague. 

“ Vegetables  may  be  planted  for  everyday  use.  They 
are  fresher  when  grown  at  home  than  if  bought  in  the 
market.  Besides,  the  luxuriance  of  their  leaves  delights 
the  eye  not  less  than  the  beauty  of  flowers. 

“ Moreover  it  tends  to  edify  the  heart  if  we  plant  trees 


244  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

and  herbs  in  our  gardens  and  love  them.  In  our  leisure 
moments  we  should  pay  some  attention  to  looking  for 
things  easy  to  get,  just  as  they  may  turn  up,  and  planting 
them.  If  we  strive  after  procuring  things  hard  to  come 
at,  and  either  beg  them  unconscionably  of  our  friends,  or 
buy  them  at  a high  price,  we  get  proud  of  the  number  of 
kinds  we  have  collected,  or  of  the  superiority  of  the 
flowers.  This  leads  to  rivalry  in  the  goodness  of  the 
flowers.  Trouble  ensues,  and  heart-burnings,  which  are 
injurious  to  self-discipline,  yield  no  pleasure,  and  cause 
nothing  but  anxiety." 

Yekken  was  also  a poet.  The  following  Tanka  was 
composed  by  him  when  he  felt  death  approaching  : — 

“ The  past 
Seems  to  me 
Like  a single  night : 

Ah!  the  dream 

Of  more  than  eighty  years  / ” 

The  most  distinguished  of  the  Kangakusha  was  un- 
doubtedly Arai  Hakuseki.  He  was  born  in  Yedo  in 
1657,  his  father  being  in  the  service  of  Lord  Tsuchiya,  a 
small  Daimio  of  the  province  of  Kadzusa.  Hakuseki 
has  fortunately  left  an  autobiography,  a very  rare  kind 
of  literature  in  Japan,  and  we  have  therefore  much  fuller 
information  regarding  his  life  than  is  usual  in  the  case  of 
Japanese  authors.  It  was  written  not  for  publication  (the 
copy  before  me  is  in  manuscript),  but  for  the  information 
of  his  own  descendants,  so  that  they  might  not  have  the 
dissatisfaction  he  himself  had  experienced  of  knowing 
little  about  their  ancestors.  This  autobiography  was 
written  in  1716,  after  Hakuseki  had  retired  from  public 
life.  It  is  entitled  Ori-taku-shiba  (“  Burning  Faggots"), 


HAKUSEKI 


245 

in  allusion  to  a poem  of  the  Emperor  Go  Toba  which 
speaks  of  the  smoke  of  faggots  at  evening  bringing  back 
the  memory  (of  a departed  dear  one  who  had  been  cre- 
mated ?).  The  early  part  of  this  work  is  taken  up  with 
an  account  of  u the  man  who  was  his  father,"  to  use 
Hakuseki’s  curious  phrase,  a metsuke 1 or  inspector  of 
the  Daimio’s  Yedo  mansion.  In  him  he  has  given  a 
minute  and  loving  description  of  a Japanese  gentleman 
of  the  olden  time.  I transcribe  a few  sentences: — 

“ Ever  since  I came  to  understand  the  heart  of  things, 
my  memory  is  that  the  daily  routine  of  his  life  was  always 
exactly  the  same.  He  never  failed  to  get  up  an  hour 
before  daybreak.  He  then  had  a cold  bath,  and  did  his 
hair  himself.  In  cold  weather,  the  woman  who  was  my 
mother  would  propose  to  order  hot  water  for  him,  but 
this  he  would  not  allow,  as  he  wished  to  avoid  giving  the 
servants  trouble.  When  he  was  over  seventy,  and  my 
mother  also  was  advanced  in  years,  sometimes  when  the 
cold  was  unendurable,  a lighted  brazier  was  brought  in, 
and  they  lay  down  to  sleep  with  their  feet  against  it. 
Beside  the  fire  there  was  placed  a kettle  with  hot  water, 
which  my  father  drank  when  he  got  up.  Both  of  them 
honoured  the  Way  of  Buddha.  My  father,  when  he  had 
arranged  his  hair  and  adjusted  his  clothing,  never 
neglected  to  make  obeisance  to  Buddha.  On  the  anni- 
versaries of  his  father's  and  mother’s  death  he  and  my 
mother  prepared  the  rice  for  the  offerings.  This  duty 
was  never  entrusted  to  servants.  After  he  was  dressed 
he  waited  quietly  till,  dawn,  and  then  went  out  to  his 
official  duty." 

“ Since  I remember,  there  were  but  few  black  hairs  on 

1 This  is  the  word  usually  rendered  “spy.” 

r7 


246 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


his  head.  He  had  a square-shaped  face  with  a high 
forehead.  His  eyes  were  large,  he  had  a thick  growth 
of  beard,  and  was  short  of  stature.  He  was,  however, 
a big-boned,  powerful  man.  He  was  never  known  to 
betray  anger,  nor  do  I remember  that  even  when  he 
laughed  he  ever  gave  way  to  boisterous  mirth.  Much 
less  did  he  ever  descend  to  violent  language  when  he 
had  occasion  to  reprimand  any  one.  In  his  conversation 
he  used  as  few  words  as  possible.  His  demeanour  was 
grave.  I have  never  seen  him  startled,  flurried,  or  im- 
patient. When  he  applied  the  moxa tl  he  used  to  say 
there  was  ho  use  in  small  and  few  applications,  and 
would  put  on  five  or  seven  great  patches  at  the  same 
time  without  showing  any  sign  of  suffering.  The  room 
he  usually  occupied  he  kept  cleanly  swept,  had  an  old 
picture  hung  on  the  wall,  and  a few  flowers  which  were 
in  season  set  out  in  a vase.  He  would  spend  the  day 
looking  at  them.  He  painted  a little  in  black  and  white, 
not  being  fond  of  colours.  When  in  good  health  he 
never  troubled  a servant,  but  did  everything  for  him- 
self." 

As  a boy  Hakuseki  gave  many  proofs  of  precocious 
intelligence.  Before  he  was  three  years  of  age  he  copied 
out  some  Chinese  characters  in  a recognisable  manner. 
His  Daimio  noticed  him  and  kept  him  constantly  about 
his  own  person. 

11  In  the  autumn  of  my  eighth  year,  Tobe  [his  Daimio] 
went  to  the  province  of  Kadzusa,  leaving  instructions 
chat  I was  to  be  taught  writing.  In  the  middle  of  the 
twelfth  month  of  the  winter  of  that  year  he  returned,  and 
I resumed  my  usual  attendance  on  him.  In  the  autumn 

1 A kind  of  tinder,  applied  to  the  skin  in  small  patches  and  then  burnt,  as 
a remedy  for  various  ailments. 


HAKUSEKI 


247 


of  the  next  year,  when  he  went  again  to  his  province, 
he  set  me  a task,  ordering  me  to  write  out  every  day  in 
the  day-time  three  thousand  Chinese  characters  in  the 
round  or  cursive  script,  and  at  night  one  thousand. 
When  winter  came  on  and  the  days  became  shorter,  it 
frequently  happened  that  the  sun  approached  his  setting 
before  my  task  was  finished.  I would  then  take  my  desk 
out  to  a bamboo  veranda  which  faced  the  west,  and  finish 
it  there.  Moreover,  as  I sometimes  got  intolerably  sleepy 
over  my  nightly  task,  I arranged  with  the  man  who  was 
told  off  to  serve  me  to  put  two  buckets  of  water  on  the 
aforesaid  veranda.  When  I became  very  drowsy  I took 
off  my  coat  and  poured  one  of  the  buckets  of  water  over 
me.  I then  resumed  my  clothing  and  went  on  writing. 
The  cold  produced  in  this  way  for  a while  answered  the 
purpose  of  keeping  me  awake.  But  after  a time  I became 
warm  again,  and  the  drowsiness  came  back,  when  I poured 
water  over  myself  as  before.  With  two  applications  of 
this  kind  I was  able  to  get  through  most  of  my  work. 
This  was  in  the  autumn  and  winter  of  my  ninth  year. 
. . . From  my  thirteenth  year  Tobe  used  me  to  con- 
duct most  of  his  correspondence." 

Hakuseki  was  an  ambitious  youth,  as  the  following 
saying  of  his  shows  : “ If,  alive,  a man  cannot  become 
a Daimio,  better  die  and  be  a king  of  Hades."  In  this 
spirit  he  refused  an  eligible  offer  of  marriage  to  the 
daughter  of  a wealthy  merchant,  although  both  he  and 
his  father,  who  had  retired  on  a small  pension,  were  in 
great  poverty.  In  1682  he  entered  the  service  of  Hotta, 
the  Daimio  of  Furukawa,  with  whom  he  remained  ten 
years.  When  he  left'  him  Hakuseki  was  almost  desti- 
tute. His  only  property  was  a box  containing  three 
hundred  cash,  and  three  measures  of  rice  (a  week’s 


248  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

supply).  His  teacher,  Kinoshita  Junan,  of  whom  he 
always  speaks  with  the  greatest  reverence,  tried  to  pro- 
cure him  an  appointment  with  the  Daimio  of  Kaga  ; but 
Hakuseki,  being  appealed  to  by  a friend  who  had  an 
aged  mother  in  that  province  dependent  on  him  for  sup- 
port, begged  Junan  to  use  his  influence  for  him  instead. 
Hakuseki  had  no  favourable  opportunity  of  advancement 
until  1693,  when  he  was  thirty -six  years  of  age.  On 
the  recommendation  of  Junan,  he  was  then  engaged  as 
Professor  of  Chinese  by  Iyenobu,  subsequently  (1709- 
1713)  Shogun,  but  at  this  time  Daimio  of  Kofu. 

His  relations  with  Iyenobu  were  throughout  of  the 
most  cordial  nature.  He  was  always  receiving  from  him 
presents  of  clothing  and  money.  When  Hakuseki 
lectured  on  the  Chinese  classics,  Iyenobu  listened  with 
the  greatest  respect,  refraining  in  summer  from  brushing 
off  a mosquito,  and  in  winter,  when  he  had  a cold  in  his 
head,  turning  away  from  the  lecturer  before  wiping  his 
nose  with  the  paper  of  which  he  kept  a supply  in  his 
sleeve.  “ You  may  imagine,”  says  Hakuseki,  addressing 
his  posterity  in  the  Ori-taku-shiba , “ how  quiet  the  rest  of 
the  audience  were.” 

In  1701,  by  command  of  Iyenobu,  Hakuseki  composed 
his  greatest  work,  the  Hankampu , a history  of  the  Daimios 
of  Japan  from  1600  to  1680.  It  is  in  thirty  volumes  and 
must  have  required  immense  research,  yet  it  was  written 
in  a few  months.  Having  received  the  order  in  the  first 
month,  he  began  the  draft  on  the  eleventh  day  of  the 
seventh  month.  The  manuscript  was  completed  in  the 
eleventh  month,  and  a fair  copy  was  made  by  Hakuseki 
himself  and  laid  before  Iyenobu  on  the  nineteenth 
day  of  the  second  month  of  the  following  year.  Haku- 
seki mentions  these  details  with  obvious  pride  in  his 


HAKUSEKI 


249 


autobiography.  They  are  very  characteristic  of  the 
extreme  rapidity  of  composition  of  Japanese  authors 
during  this  period.  They  expended  no  superfluous 
labour  of  the  file  upon  their  works.  Yet  the  Hankampu 
cannot  be  called  a carelessly  written  book.  Not  only 
does  it  contain  most  valuable  material  for  the  future 
historian  of  Japan,  but  the  style  is  highly  commended 
by  the  best  native  critics  for  its  combined  elegance  and 
vigour,  neither  leaning  too  much  to  Chinese  pedantry 
on  the  one  hand,  nor  to  Japanese  purism  on  the  other. 
So  far  as  a “Western  barbarian"  may  be  allowed  an 
opinion,  this  praise  is  not  undeserved,  though  it  is  perhaps 
unnecessary  to  endorse  the  language  of  a native  admirer 
who  declares  that  “ Hakuseki’s  heart  is  brocade,  his 
bowels  are  rich  embroidery,  his  spittle  produces  pearls, 
and  his  half  - conscious  mutterings  form  harmonious 
music."  The  Hankampu  contains  much  genealogical 
and  other  matter  which  has  little  interest  for  the 
European  reader.  Even  Hakuseki’s  countrymen  at  the 
present  day  will  probably  admit  that  there  is  more  than 
enough  of  this  element.  Although  one  of  the  most 
important  works  of  the  Yedo  period,  I doubt  whether  it 
has  been  printed.  The  Shoguns'  government  was  much 
given  to  cachotterie  in  matters  of  state,  and  very  many  of 
the  most  interesting  political  works  of  this  period  were 
only  circulated  privately  among  the  official  class.  Two 
copies  in  my  possession  are  both  in  manuscript,  the 
form  in  which  Hakuseki’s  works  are  usually  met  with. 
In  the  case  cf  the  Hankampu  there  were  probably 
substantial  reasons  for  refraining  from  publication.  It 
was  hardly  possible,  especially  for  a man  of  Hakuseki’s 
fearless  and  uncompromising  nature,  to  relate  without 
offence  the  history  of  three  hundred  and  thirty-seven 


250  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

noble  houses  down  to  twenty  years  before  the  time  of 
writing. 

The  following  extract  will  give  some  idea  of  the  scope 
and  character  of  this  work  : — 

ITAKURA  SHIGEHIDE  AS  A JUDGE  OF  CRIMINAL  CASES 

“ It  is  impossible  fully  to  set  forth  here  the  reputation 
of  this  man  while  he  remained  in  office,  or  his  fame 
throughout  the  Empire.  I shall  only  take  one  principal 
instance. 

“ From  the  time  that  he  received  his  appointment,  he 
was  in  the  habit,  when  on  his  way  to  the  tribunal  and 
before  taking  his  place  there,  to  pay  distant  worship  in  a 
corridor  which  faced  the  west.  Here  a tea-mill1  was 
placed,  and  the  paper  slides  being  drawn,  Shigehide 
seated  himself  behind  them  and  heard  the  cases  while 
grinding  the  tea  with  his  own  hand.  Everybody  won- 
dered at  this  conduct,  but  no  one  dared  to  question  him. 
Many  years  afterwards  he  was  asked  the  reason,  and 
replied  : 1 Well,  the  reason  why  I worshipped  afar  in  a 
corridor  which  faced  the  west  before  taking  my  place  in 
the  tribunal  was  this  : I was  worshipping  the  gods  of 
Atago.  I was  told  that  among  all  the  many  gods  these 
were  the  most  efficacious,  and  I offered  a prayer  to  them 
when  I thus  worshipped.  I said  in  my  prayer  : “ In 
deciding  the  cases  which  are  brought  before  Shigehide 
this  day,  may  there  be  nothing  to  which  his  heart  is  un- 
equal. If  he  errs  and  allows  selfish  motives  to  influence 
him,  may  the  gods  be  pleased  that  same  moment  to  take 
away  his  life."  And  I adjured  them  daily,  in  virtue  of  my 

1 A small  hand-mill  of  stone  used  for  reducing  tea  to  powder  before  making 
the  infusion.  The  whole  is  then  drunk — leaves  and  all. 


HAKUSEKI 


251 

profound  trust  in  them  for  years,  not  to  let  me  live  if 
self  should  get  the  better  of  me. 

“ 1 Another  thing  which  I thought  to  interfere  with 
clearness  of  judgment  is  the  emotion  of  the  heart.  A 
really  good  man  will  not  allow  such  emotion  to  arise. 
Shigehide  [himself],  however,  could  not  reach  this  per- 
fection. So  in  order  to  test  my  heart  and  ascertain 
whether  it  was  calm  or  perturbed,  the  only  expedient  I 
could  think  of  was  to  grind  tea.  When  my  heart  was 
steady  and  calm,  my  hand  was  accordant  with  it.  The 
mill  then  went  round  smoothly,  and  the  powdered  tea 
which  fell  from  it  was  beautifully  fine.  I knew  when 
the  tea  fell  down  in  a fine  powder  that  my  heart  was 
free  from  emotion.  Not  till  then  did  I pronounce 
judgment. 

“ ' The  reason  why  I heard  cases  with  a paper  screen 
interposed  was  this  : Taking  men  in  general,  a glance  at 
their  faces  shows  that  some  are  ill-favoured  and  others 
prepossessing;  some  are  honest-looking,  others  knavish. 
There  are  many  such  varieties — more  than  I can  tell.  On 
looking  at  them  we  are  apt  to  conclude  that  the  honest- 
looking  man's  evidence  is  true,  and  that  the  actions  of 
the  knavish-looking  fellow  are  all  false,  though  they  may 
be  straightforward  enough.  We  think  that  the  plaint  of 
the  man  of  prepossessing  appearance  shows  that  he  has 
been  wronged,  and  that  the  contention  of  the  ill-favoured 
man  is  erroneous.  In  all  these  cases  the  heart  is  moved 
by  what  we  see  with  our  eyes.  Even  before  the  wit- 
nesses utter  a word,  we  say  in  our  hearts,  “ Such  a one  is  a 
knave,  such  a one  is  right,  such  a one  is  straightforward," 
so  that  when  we  come  to  hear  the  evidence  we  are  apt  to 
wrest  it  to  our  preconceived  ideas.  But  very  frequently 
it  is  seen  during  the  trial  that  among  prepossessing  coun- 


252 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


tenances  some  belong  to  men  who  are  truly  detestable, 
and  that  of  ill-favoured  men  some  are  deserving  of  sym- 
pathy. Among  the  honest-looking  there  are  knaves,  and 
true  men  among  the  knavish-looking.  Men's  hearts  are 
hard  to  know,  and  the  plan  of  judging  of  them  by  their 
looks  will  not  answer.  . . . Even  for  those  against  whom 
there  is  no  charge,  it  must  be  a terrible  thing  to  appear 
in  a court  of  justice.  Some  there  are  who,  when  they 
see  before  them  the  man  in  whose  hands  are  life  and 
death,  are  bewildered  and  cast  down  to  such  a degree  as 
to  be  unable  to  plead  what  they  might  in  their  defence. 
When  I reflected  on  this  I felt  that  it  was  after  all  better 
that  the  judge  and  the  prisoner  should  not  see  one  another 
face  to  face.  This  was  my  reason  for  taking  my  seat  with 
a screen  interposed.'" 

Next  to  the  Hcinkampuy  Hakuseki's  most  important 
work  is  the  Tokushi  Yoron,  which  was  written  by  order 
of  Iyenobu  in  1712.  It  gives  for  the  first  time  a general 
view  of  Japanese  history  for  two  thousand  years,  dwelling 
more  particularly  on  periods  of  change  and  revolution, 
and  showing  the  connection  of  events  in  a way  which  had 
never  been  previously  attempted.  Its  historical  value  is 
considerable,  but  the  style  is  not  considered  equal  to  that 
of  his  earlier  work. 

Iyenobu  became  Shogun  in  1709.  From  this  time 
forward  Hakuseki,  although  holding  no  definite  position 
in  the  government,  was  his  constant  adviser  in  state 
affairs.  His  influence  was  given  on  the  side  of  common- 
sense  and  justice.  One  of  the  first  matters  he  was  con- 
cerned in  was  a currency  question.  To  meet  the  expenses 
of  the  installation  of  the  new  Shogun,  the  Minister  of 
Finance,  Hagiwara  Shigehide,  proposed  various  schemes 


HAKUSEKI 


253 


involving  the  debasing  of  the  currency.  These  were 
vigorously  opposed  by  Hakuseki,  and  with  complete 
success,  Hagiwara  being  deprived  of  office,  and  the  cur- 
rency at  length  (in  1714)  placed  on  a solid  foundation. 
A more  doubtful  financial  measure  taken  by  his  advice 
restricted  the  export  of  gold  and  silver,  and  limited  the 
number  of  vessels  engaged  in  foreign  commerce. 

Throughout  Iyenobu's  reign  Hakuseki  was  the  acknow- 
ledged authority  on  financial  matters.  In  1741  an  embassy 
arrived  from  Corea.  He  was  charged  with  the  negotia- 
tions, and  acquitted  himself  with  great  credit.  At  this 
time  he  received  the  title  of  Chikugo  no  Kami,  and  a 
grant  of  500  kokus  of  rice  annually.  His  strong  interest 
in  foreign  affairs  is  evidenced  by  a little  work  called 
Gojiryaku , a collection  of  memoranda  (still  in  manu- 
script) on  Loochoo,  the  forms  of  diplomatic  intercourse, 
the  movement  of  specie,  &c. 

To  us  Europeans  the  most  interesting  episode  in 
Hakuseki's  life  is  his  relations  with  an  unfortunate 
Italian  missionary,  Father  Sidotti,  who  landed  alone  in 
the  province  of  Satsuma  in  1708,  with  some  wild  hope 
of  being  allowed  to  preach  the  Christian  religion  in 
Japan.  He  was  at  once  arrested,  and  ultimately  sent 
to  Yedo,  where,  after  some  time  had  elapsed,  he  was 
handed  over  to  Hakuseki  for  examination. 

In  the  Seiyd  Kibun  (“  Notes  of  the  Western  Ocean"), 
Hakuseki  has  given  a history  of  this  affair,  to  which  he 
has  appended  such  information  regarding  the  geography 
and  history  of  European  countries  as  he  was  able  to 
extract  from  this  unhappy  man.  Owing  chiefly  to  diffi- 
culties of  interpretation,  it  is  meagre  in  the  extreme,  but 
yet  interesting  as  the  first  attempt  of  a Japanese  writer 
to  give  an  account  of  Europe. 


254 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Sidotti  produced  in  Hakuseki  that  mixed  feeling  of 
perplexity  and  irritation  which  contact  with  a profound 
religious  faith  so  often  excites  in  thinkers  of  the  positive 
type.  The  devotion  to  his  sovereign  and  religious  chief 
(for  so  Hakuseki  thought  it)  which  prompted  him  at  the 
Pope's  command  to  journey  to  so  distant  a country,  and 
there  for  six  years  to  undergo  peril  and  suffering,  ap- 
pealed strongly  to  a man  who  had  himself  a stern  sense 
of  duty.  Hakuseki  reported  to  his  Government  that  it 
was  impossible  to  witness  without  emotion  Sidotti's  firm 
adherence  to  his  own  faith,  and  he  also  spoke  with  warm 
appreciation  of  his  kindly  disposition  and  scientific  know- 
ledge. 44  But,"  said  he,  44  when  this  man  begins  to  speak 
of  religion  his  talk  is  shallow  and  scarce  a word  is  intel- 
ligible. All  of  a sudden  folly  takes  the  place  of  wisdom. 
It  is  like  listening  to  the  talk  of  two  different  men." 

The  “folly"  which  Hakuseki  had  more  particularly 
in  view  was  an  outline  of  Bible  history  and  Christian 
doctrine  which  Sidotti  had  dictated  to  him  in  the  fulness 
of  his  heart.  In  its  Japanese  form  it  is  a dry  and  soulless 
husk,  which  affords  some  excuse  for  Hakuseki’s  obtuse- 
ness to  its  spiritual  import.  It  should  be  a warning  to 
missionaries  not  to  attempt  the  teaching  of  religion  until 
they  have  something  more  than  a tyro's  command  of  the 
language.  As  Hakuseki's  attitude  towards  Christianity 
is  essentially  that  of  educated  Japanese  at  the  present 
day,  I may  quote  some  of  his  observations. 

“ The  foreign  word  4 Deus,’  which  the  Western  man 
used  in  his  discourse,  is  equivalent  to  4 Creator,’  and 
means  simply  a Being  who  first  made  heaven  and  earth 
and  the  ten  thousand  things.  He  argued  that  the  universe 
did  not  come  into  existence  of  itself.  4 It  must,'  he  said, 
4 have  had  a maker/  But  if  this  were  so,  then  who  made 


HAKUSEKI 


255 


Deus  ? How  could  he  be  born  while  there  was  yet  no 
heaven  or  earth  ? And  if  Deus  could  come  into  existence 
of  himself,  why  should  not  heaven  and  earth  do  so  like- 
wise ? Again,  there  is  the  doctrine,  that  before  the  world 
existed,  there  was  a heavenly  paradise  made  for  good 
men.  I cannot  understand  how  men  could  have  any 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil  while  there  was  yet  no  heaven 
and  earth.  It  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  all  his  notions 
about  the  beginning  of  the  world  and  of  mankind,  of  para- 
dise and  of  hell,  as  they  are  all  derived  from  Buddhism. 

“What  will  be  thought  of  the  idea  that  Deus,  pitying 
the  heinous  criminals  who  had  broken  the  heavenly  com- 
mands, and  who  of  themselves  could  not  give  satisfaction, 
was  three  thousand  years  after,  for  their  sakes,  born  as 
Jesus,  and  in  their  stead  redeemed  their  guilt  ? This 
sounds  very  childish.  At  the  present  time,  the  judge  who 
is  charged  with  the  infliction  of  punishment  may  yet  take 
a merciful  view  of  the  circumstances  and  grant  pardon 
or  mitigation.  And  in  the  case  even  of  the  heavenly 
commands,  what  was  there  to  prevent  Deus  from  par- 
doning an  offence  against  them,  or  mitigating  the  punish- 
ment, more  especially  as  he  himself  was  the  author  of 
the  prohibition  which  was  broken/’ 

Hakuseki  discusses  Noah’s  flood  in  the  same  spirit. 
The  Ten  Commandments,  he  thinks,  were  borrowed 
mainly  from  Buddhism,  as  well  as  the  miraculous  occur- 
rences connected  with  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  His  styling 
Himself  “ Deus."  The  rite  of  baptism  he  refers  to  the 
same  source. 

The  result  of  Hakuseki’s  examination  was  a report,  in 
which  he  pointed  out  that  the  Shogun’s  Government  had 
three  courses  open  to  them : first,  to  send  Sidotti  back 
to  his  own  country ; second,  to  retain  him  in  imprison- 


25  6 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ment ; and  third,  to  put  him  to  death  as  prescribed  by 
law.  He  gave  his  own  voice  strongly  in  favour  of  the 
first  course,  but  the  second  was  the  one  actually  adopted. 
Sidotti  died  in  prison  not  long  after.1 

On  the  death  of  his  patron  in  1713,  Hakuseki  wished 
to  retire  from  public  life.  But  it  was  pointed  out  to  him 
that  his  help  was  required  to  carry  out  certain  measures 
already  contemplated  by  the  late  Shogun.  He  therefore 
consented,  from  public  motives,  to  continue  his  counsels. 
Iyenobu  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Iyetsugu,  then  four 
years  of  age.  A momentous  question  now  arose  which 
convulsed  official  circles  in  Yedo  for  some  time.  Was  a 
child  of  such  tender  years  bound  to  wear  mourning  for 
his  father  or  not  ? Hayashi  Shuntai,  the  hereditary 
official  representative  of  Chinese  learning  at  the  Shogun’s 
court,  declared  for  the  negative.  But  he  was  no  match 
for  Hakuseki,  who  maintained  the  affirmative  proposi- 
tion, and  fairly  crushed  his  opponent  under  a weight  of 
learning  and  argument  which  seems  to  us  rather  dis- 
proportionate to  the  occasion.  In  his  autobiography 
Hakuseki  tells  the  story  of  Shuntai’s  discomfiture  with 
great  triumph. 

At  Iyetsugu's  death  in  1716,  the  reins  of  power  passed 
into  other  hands.  Hakuseki  was  no  longer  consulted, 
and  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days  as  a recluse  among 
his  dearly  loved  books.  He  died  in  1725  in  his  sixty- 
ninth  year.  His  life  shows  that  in  Japan  at  this  time 
a career  was  open  for  talent.  He  owed  little  to  any 
one  but  himself.  It  was  sheer  worth,  force  of  intel- 
lect, and  a self-reliant,  uncompromising  character  which 

1 The  principal  part  of  the  Seiyd  Kibun , from  which  the  above  particulars 
are  taken,  has  been  translated  by  the  Rev.  W.  B.  Wright,  in  the  Transactions 
of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan,  August  1 88 1. 


KIUSO 


257 

raised  him  to  the  unique  position  of  influence  which  he 
held. 

His  works,  inclusive  of  state  papers  and  reports  to  his 
Government,  number  over  three  hundred.  In  addition 
to  those  already  mentioned,  there  may  be  named  Yezo- 
dan  Hikki  (in  MS.),  which  treats  of  the  productions  of 
Yezo,  the  Yezo  language,  and  the  Aino  revolt  of  1669  ; 
A' ant ds hi>  a geographical  work  on  Loochoo ; Keizai  Tenkeiy 
or  “ Principles  of  Finance”  ; Kwahei  Kdy  a work  on  the 
currency  ; Gunki  Kd}  on  arms  ; Kishin  Ron , a book  on 
the  nature  of  the  gods  ; Gwakd  Benrany  a work  on 
painting  ; Ketsugoku  Ko,  on  knotty  points  of  criminal 
law  ; Dobun  Tsukdy  on  the  various  forms  of  script  used 
in  Japan  ; Shuko  Dzusetsu , an  antiquarian  work  ; Tdga} 
a dictionary  of  Japanese  words  in  twenty  books  ; and 
Sairan  Igeny  an  expansion  of  the  historical  and  geo- 
graphical part  of  the  Seiyd  Kibun . 

Muro  Kiuso  was  born  at  Yanaka,  in  the  province  of 
Musashi  (not  far  from  Yedo),  in  1658.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished from  his  earliest  years  by  a love  of  learning. 
When  only  thirteen  he  was  taken  into  the  service  of  the 
Daimio  of  Kaga,  who  was  so  much  struck  by  his  pre- 
cocious talent  that  he  sent  him  to  Kioto  to  study  under 
the  famous  Kinoshita  Junan. 

In  1711,  on  the  recommendation  of  his  friend  and 
fellow-pupil  Hakuseki,  Kiuso  received  a Government 
appointment  in  Yedo  as  Professor  of  Chinese.  In  1713 
he  took  up  his  residence  in  a house  at  Surugadai,  a lofty 
platform  which  overlooks  Yedo  from  the  north,  near  the 
spot  where  a Christian  church  now  stands,  conspicuous  to 
the  whole  city.  Here  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days. 
When  Hakuseki  retired  from  public  life,  KiusS  to  some 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


258 

extent  took  his  place  as  adviser  to  the  Shogunate.  The 
Shogun  Yoshimune  (1716-1751)  esteemed  him  highly  and 
consulted  him  continually.  Kiuso  died  in  1734  in  his 
seventy-seventh  year. 

Kiuso  is  best  remembered  by  his  Shundai  Zatsuwa 
(1729), 1 a work  of  his  old  age.  The  title  means  “ Mis- 
cellaneous Talk  on  Surugadai.”  It  consists  of  notes  taken 
of  the  discourses  which  he  delivered  in  answer  to  il  those 
who  believed  in  the  Old  Man  and  came  to  him  with 
questions/’  and  covers  a wide  variety  of  subjects.  It  con- 
tains unsparing  denunciations  of  Buddhism,  superstition, 
and  heresy  from  the  faith  as  it  is  in  Chu-Hi  ; pantheistic 
philosophy,  metaphysics,  politics,  lectures  on  the  arts  of 
war  and  poetry,  literary  criticisms,  and  so  on.  Kiuso 
propounds  to  the  world  no  original  ideas  on  these 
subjects.  His  philosophy  is  simply  that  of  Chu-Hi  in  a 
Japanese  garb.  But  in  him,  as  in  Hakuseki,  the  inner 
spirit  and  temper  of  mind  which  it  fostered  in  Japan  is 
seen  at  its  best.  Some  Christian  ideals  are  wanting. 
Forgiveness  of  one’s  enemies  is  not  to  be  found  there, 
nor  is  a chivalrous  consideration  for  the  weak  and  for 
women  very  conspicuous.  But  a noble  enthusiasm  for 
lofty  ideals  and  high  achievements  with  a scorn  of  mean- 
ness and  duplicity  pervades  all  the  utterances  of  this 
Socrates  of  Surugadai.  Loyalty  to  friends,  devotion  to 
duty,  and  a high-souled  contempt  for  cowardice,  dis- 
honesty, and  self-seeking,  are  their  unfailing  character- 
i dies. 

Kiuso,  like  the  other  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
century  expounders  of  Chinese  philosophy,  had  a 

1 Partly  translated  by  Dr.  Knox  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society 
°f  Jafan , 1892.  But  a more  complete  and  accurate  translation  is  desir- 
able. ' \ 


KIUSO 


259 


supreme  contempt  for  Buddhism.  The  Kangakusha's 
ideal  of  life  was  essentially  different.  To  the  Buddhist 
the  spiritual  life  is  all-important.  For  its  sake  men 
should  wean  themselves  from  the  things  of  this  world, 
sever  all  family  ties,  and  retire  to  hermitages  or  mon- 
asteries, there  to  spend  pure  and  holy  lives  in  pious 
meditation  and  religious  observances.  The  Chinese 
philosophy,  on  the  contrary,  is  eminently  practical.  It 
may  be  summed  up  in  one  word — duty.  The  various 
relations  of  human  life  being  ordained  by  Heaven,  it  is 
man’s  business  not  to  evade  the  obligations  thus  imposed 
on  him,  as  the  Buddhists  would  have  him  do,  but  to  fulfil 
them  faithfully  at  all  costs. 

Japan  owes  a profound  debt  of  gratitude  to  the  Kanga- 
kusha  of  this  time.  For  their  day  and  country  they  were 
emphatically  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  their  writings  must 
have  helped  materially  to  counteract  the  pernicious  in- 
fluence of  a very  different  class  of  literature  which  now 
began  to  deluge  the  country,  the  pornographic  writings 
of  Jisho  and  his  school. 

Kiuso’s  style  is  unequal  to  his  matter.  He  is  frequently 
obscure,  and  is  somewhat  too  fond  of  learned  allusions 
to  Chinese  history  and  literature.  In  both  respects  he 
contrasts  with  his  predecessor  Yekken,  and  even  with 
Hakuseki,  though  the  latter  could  be  erudite  enough 
upon  occasion.  But  his  learning  was  probably  not  mis- 
placed considering  the  audience  whom  he  was  addressing, 
while  his  obscurity  seems  due  to  the  fact  that  he  moved 
in  an  intellectual  sphere  so  far  above  his  contemporaries 
that  he  found  the  Japanese  language  of  his  time  an  in- 
adequate vehicle  to  convey  his  thoughts. 

The  following  extract  from  the  Shundai  Zatsuwa  will 
give  some  idea  of  Kiuso’s  philosophic  vein  : — 


26o 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


The  Morning-glory  {or  Convolvulus) 

“ ‘ Oh  for  the  heart 

Of  the  morning-glory  ! 

Which , though  its  bloom  is  for  a single  hour , 

Is  the  same  as  that  of  the  fir-tree 

Which  lives  a thousand  years? — Matsunaga. 

“ To  my  mind  there  is  a profound  meaning  in  this  verse. 
Many  poems,  some  of  ancient  date,  have  been  composed 
on  the  morning-glory,  for  the  most  part  alluding  to  its 
short-lived  bloom,  and  associating  it  with  the  melancholy 
sentiment  of  autumn.  It  is  thus  made  an  emblem  of  this 
transitory  world.  Such  verses  have  no  deeper  meaning. 
The  lines  of  Haku  Kyo-i  [in  Chinese,  Peh  Kii-yih] — 

£ A filer  a thousand  years  at  last  the  fir  decays  : 

The  hibiscus-flower  glories  in  its  one  day's  life  ’ — 

have  the  stamp  of  official  approval,  and  are  reckoned 
elegant.  But  there  is  here  a forced  endeavour  to  make 
glory  and  decay  the  same,  and  to  assimilate  robust  life 
with  early  death.  This  may  sound  fine  in  the  ears  of  the 
vulgar,  but  it  is  after  all  a very  superficial  view.  Such 
ideas  go  no  further  than  to  reproduce  the  drivel  of 
Gautama  [Buddha],  or  to  lick  the  spittle  of  Chwang- 
chow  [a  Taoist  philosopher].  This  cannot  be  the  mean- 
ing of  Matsunaga’s  ‘ heart  differing  not  from  that  of  the 
fir-tree.’  What  do  you  say,  gentlemen  ? To  this  old 
man’s  mind  it  says,  ‘ He  that  in  the  morning  has  found 
the  Way  may  die  content  at  night.’  To  blossom  in  the 
early  morn,  to  await  the  sun’s  rays  and  then  to  fade,  is 
the  nature  which  the  morning-glory  has  received  from 
heaven.  There  are  in  the  world  fir-trees  which  live  a 
thousand  years,  but  the  morning-glory,  though  endowed 


KIUSO 


261 


with  so  brief  a span  of  existence,  never  forgets  itself  for 
a moment  or  is  envious  of  others.  Morning  after  morn- 
ing the  flowers  unfold,  enchantingly  beautiful ; and  having 
exhausted  that  natural  virtue  which  has  been  allotted  to 
them,  they  wither.  Herein  they  show  their  faithfulness 
to  duty.  Why  should  it  be  regarded  as  vain  and  un- 
profitable ? The  fir  does  just  the  same,  but  the  morning- 
glory,  being  short-lived,  illustrates  this  principle  in  a 
more  striking  manner.  Not  that  in  the  mind  of  the  fir- 
tree  there  is  any  idea  of  a thousand  years,  or  in  that  of 
the  morning-glory  the  thought  of  a single  day.  Each 
simply  fulfils  its  allotted  nature.  The  view  of  the  thousand 
years  of  the  fir-tree  as  robust  vigour,  and  of  the  one  day 
of  the  morning-glory  as  vain  and  transitory,  belongs 
simply  to  the  man  who  looks  on  them  from  without.  It 
is  absurd  to  suppose  that  in  the  mind  of  the  fir-tree  or 
convolvulus  there  is  any  such  thought. 

“All  things  without  sense  are  the  same.  But  man, 
endowed  with  feeling,  and  described  as  the  soul  of  the 
universe,  becomes  entangled  by  his  own  craftiness,  and 
so  long  as  he  does  not  learn  the  Way,  falls  short  of 
this  perfection.  This  is  why  it  is  necessary  for  him  to 
learn  the  Way.  To  learn  the  Way  must  not  be  taken 
to  be  anything  of  a special  kind,  such  as  the  spiritual 
vision  of  the  Buddhists  or  the  like.  The  Way  is  the 
original  right  principle  of  things.  It  is  something  which 
vulgar  men  and  women  know  and  practise  as  well  as 
others.  But  as  they  do  not  truly  know  it,  they  do  not 
thoroughly  practise  it.  They  learn  it,  but  do  not  fully 
comprehend  it ; they  practise  it,  but  not  with  conspicuous 
success.  They  may  go  on  striving  to  the  end  of  their 
days,  but  they  will  never  enter  into  its  full  meaning. 
Now  to  learn  the  Way  is  nothing  more  than  to  acquire  a 


262 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


true  knowledge  of  this  principle,  and  to  practise  it  effec- 
tively until  you  have  the  restful  feeling  of  a fish  in  water, 
and  take  the  same  pleasure  in  it  that  a bird  does  in  the 
groves.  It  should  be  made  one’s  very  life  at  all  times, 
never  being  departed  from  for  a moment.  If,  so  long  as 
we  live,  we  follow  the  Way,  when  we  die  these  bodies 
of  ours  and  the  Way  come  to  an  end  together,  and  a 
long  peace  ensues.  Living  for  a day,  let  us  fulfil  the 
Way  for  that  day  and  die  ; living  for  a month,  let  us 
fulfil  the  Way  for  that  month  and  die  ; living  for  a year, 
let  us  fulfil  the  Way  for  that  year  and  die.  If  we  do  so, 
there  will  be  left  not  an  atom  of  regret,  even  if  we  die  in 
the  evening  after  having  learnt  the  Way  in  the  morning. 

“ Looking  at  the  matter  in  this  light,  why  should  the 
morning-glory  resent  that  it  must  fade  when  the  sun's 
rays  fall  upon  it  ? Though  its  life  is  but  for  a day,  it  has 
bloomed  to  the  full  extent  of  its  endowment,  and  there 
is  nothing  left.  It  is  widely  different  from  the  thousand 
years  of  the  fir-tree  in  length  of  time,  but  they  are  both 
alike  in  that  they  exhaust  the  command  of  Heaven  [fulfil 
their  destiny]  and  are  satisfied.  This  is  what  is  meant 
by  tjie  expression  1 a heart  differing  not  from  that  of 
the  fir-tree.’  Doubtless  Matsunaga  wished  that  his  heart 
should  become  even  like  it,  and  therefore  wrote  this  poem 
of  the  morning-glory.” 

In  the  following  passage,  which  contains  echoes  of 
Taoist  doctrines,  Kiuso  approaches  very  nearly  to  the 
idea  of  a personal  Deity  : — 

“The  Saden  [an  ancient  Chinese  book]  says,  4 God  1 is 
uniformly  intelligent  and  just.’  It  is  his  very  nature  to 

1 Or  “ the  Gods.”  The  Chinese  and  Japanese  languages  rarely  distinguish 
between  singular  and  plural.  The  concluding  part  of  this  extract,  however, 
shows  that  Kiusd  was  thinking  of  a single  Deity. 


KIUSO 


263 

be  so.  Now  while  all  men  know  that  he  is  just,  they  do 
not  know  that  he  is  intelligent.  Yet  there  is  nothing  of 
so  keen  an  intelligence  as  God.  How  is  this  ? Man 
hears  with  his  ears,  and  beyond  their  reach  he  hears 
nothing  though  he  were  as  quick  of  hearing  as  Shiko  ; 
he  sees  with  his  eyes,  and  beyond  their  range  he  can  see 
nothing,  were  he  as  sharp-sighted  as  Riro  ; with  his  heart 
he  reflects,  and,  however  swift  his  intuitions  may  be,  still 
this  must  involve  delay.  God  borrows  not  the  help  of 
ears  or  eyes  ; nor  does  he  waste  time  in  reflection.  With 
him  sensation  is  immediate,  and  is  followed  by  immediate 
responsive  action.  This,  be  it  observed,  is  his  nature,  and 
flows  not  from  two  or  three,  but  from  a single  reality. 

“ But  although  there  is  in  heaven  and  earth  a some- 
thing infinitely  quick  of  hearing  and  infinitely  sharp  of 
sight,  independent  of  conditions  of  time  or  space,  present 
as  if  actually  on  the  spot,  passing  to  and  fro  without  any 
interval,  embodying  itself  in  all  things  which  are,  and 
filling  the  universe,  it  has  neither  form  nor  voice,  and  is 
therefore  not  cognisable  by  our  senses.  It  is,  however, 
sensible  to  the  Real  and  the  True.  As  it  feels,  so  it 
responds.  If  there  is  no  truth  or  reality,  there  can  be 
no  response.  If  it  did  not  feel,  it  would  not  respond. 
The  response  is  therefore  a proof  of  its  existence.  That 
which  responds  not,  of  course  does  not  exist.  What  a 
wonderful  property  for  heaven  and  earth  to  possess  ! 

"In  the  words  of  a stanza  composed  by  priest  Saigid 
when  he  made  a pilgrimage  to  the  shrines  of  Ise — 

‘ What  it  is 
That  dwelleth  here 
I know  not ; 

Yet  my  heart  is  full  of  gratitude. 

And  the  tears  trickle  down?  ” 


264 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ Think  not  that  God  is  something  distant,  but  seek  for 
him  in  your  own  hearts  ; for  the  heart  is  the  abode  of 
God.” 

“To  forsake  all  evil  and  follow  good  is  the  beginning 
of  the  practice  of  our  philosophy.” 

“ The  Way  of  the  Sages  is  not  sundered  from  matters 
of  everyday  life.” 

“That  which  in  Heaven  begets  all  things  is  in  man 
that  which  makes  him  love  his  neighbour.  So  doubt 
not  that  Heaven  loves  goodness  of  heart  and  hates  its 
opposite.” 

“ Has  not  bravery  itself  its  root  in  goodness  of 
heart,  and  does  it  not  proceed  from  sympathy  ? It 
is  only  when  it  arises  from  goodness  that  bravery  is 
genuine.” 

“ Once  when  I was  in  Kaga  I heard  a man  say, 
‘ All  faults  whether  great  or  small  may  be  excused  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world  upon  repentance  and  amendment, 
and  leave  behind  no  stain  of  deep-seated  baseness. 
But  there  are  two  faults  which  are  inexcusable,  even 
when  repented  of — theft,  and  the  abandonment  by  a 
Samurai  of  a post  which  he  is  bound  to  defend  with  his 
life.” 

“Avarice  and  cowardice  are  the  same.  If  a man  is 
stingy  of  his  money,  he  will  also  grudge  his  life.” 

“To  the  Samurai  first  of  all  comes  righteousness,  next 
life,  then  silver  and  gold.” 

Kiuso's  righteousness  and  our  righteousness  are  ap- 
preciably though  not  essentially  different.  The  former 
approaches  the  Roman  ideal  more  than  the  Christian. 
He  uses  the  word  to  describe  the  conduct  of  the  forty- 
seven  Ronins,  who,  having  avenged  an  insult  to  their 
master  which  led  to  his  death,  by  the  murder  of  the 


KIUSO 


265 

offender,  then  committed  hara-kiri  together.  This  inci- 
dent occurred  in  Kiuso’s  own  lifetime.  He  consecrated 
their  memory  in  a booklet  in  the  Chinese  language 
entitled  Gi-jin-roku , which,  although  not  in  itself  a very 
important  contribution  to  history,  has  been  the  parent 
of  a whole  literature.  A later  writer  gives  a list  of  one 
hundred  and  one  works  relating  to  this  subject,  includ- 
ing fiction  and  the  drama.  Mr.  Mitford  has  told  the 
story  in  his  Tales  of  Old  Japan.  It  is  highly  characteristic 
of  the  Yedo  period  of  Japanese  history. 

It  is  not  creditable  to  the  Japanese  Government  of  this 
time,  that  although  Kiuso  presented  the  Shundai  Zatsuwa 
to  his  patron  the  Shogun  in  1729,  it  wasv  allowed  to 
remain  unpublished  until  1750,  although  all  the  while  a 
flood  of  pornographic  literature  was  being  poured  out 
over  the  country  without  let  or  hindrance. 

The  modern  literary  language  of  Japan  owes  much  to 
the  Kangakusha,  more  especially  to  those  of  the  seven- 
teenth and  early  eighteenth  centuries.  The  older 
Japanese  of  the  Taiheiki  was  wholly  inadequate  for  the 
expression  of  the  host  of  new  ideas  which  were  the  off- 
spring of  the  revival  of  learning  and  the  reorganisation  of 
the  State.  The  social  changes  and  the  marked  advance 
in  civilisation  and  the  arts  which  accompanied  this 
movement  required  a new  vocabulary.  Just  as  we 
resorted  to  Latin  and  Greek  to  meet  a similar  want,  the 
Kangakusha  enriched  their  language  by  the  adoption 
of  large  numbers  of  Chinese  words.  This  process  was 
carried  to  great  excess  in  later  times.  But  writers  like 
Hakuseki  and  Kiuso  were  no  pedants.  They  were 
practical  men  who  were  accustomed  to  use  their  pens  for 
practical  purposes,  and  who  wrote  to  make  themselves 
understood,  not  to  display  their  cleverness  or  learning. 


266 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


In  their  hands  the  Japanese  language  not  only  gained 
much  in  fulness  of  vocabulary,  but  acquired  a clearness 
and  directness  unattainable  with  the  more  cumbrous 
forms  of  the  older  language.  Needless  to  say,  pillow- 
words,  pivot-words,  and  all  such  frivolous  excrescences 
of  style  were  utterly  disdained  by  them. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY 

Popular  Literature— Saikaku— Children’s  Stories 
— Chikamatsu,  and  the  Popular  Drama 

Concurrent  with  the  movement  described  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter,  another  and  very  different  development 
of  literature  was  going  on  in  Japan.  It  was  threefold, 
comprising  fiction,  the  drama,  and  a new  kind  of  poetry 
known  as  Haikai.  But  while  the  Kangakusha  wrote 
mainly  for  the  Samurai  class,  the  writers  of  romances, 
plays,  and  Haikai  addressed  themselves  for  the  first 
time  in  Japanese  history  to  the  people.  Their  public 
consisted  more  especially  of  the  populace  of  the  three 
great  cities  of  Yedo,  Kioto,  and  Osaka.  In  Japan  as 
in  China,  the  traders  occupy  a very  low  place  both 
morally  and  socially.  Of  the  four  classes  into  which  the 
population  is  divided,  the  Samurai,  including  men  of 
learning,  soldiers,  and  officials  of  all  grades,  stand  at  the 
top.  Next  to  them  are  the  peasants,  the  artisans  come 
third,  and  the  merchants  last  of  all.  It  cannot  be  denied 
that  there  was  much  justice  in  this  classification.  Under 
the  Tokugawa  regime  the  city  populations  enjoyed  great 
material  prosperity.  But  their  moral  standards  were  not 
high.  Naturally  quick-witted,  and  educated  up  to  a point 
which  may  fairly  be  described  by  our  own  slang  phrase, 

267 


268 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


“ the  three  R’s,”  they  had  little  real  culture  or  refine- 
ment. The  many-headed  beast  had,  however,  learned 
to  read,  and  demanded  an  intellectual  pabulum  suited 
to  its  tastes.  A want  had  been  created  which  required 
to  be  supplied.  The  result  was  a popular  literature  of 
which  some  account  must  now  be  given. 

The  seventeenth  century  has  not  much  to  show  in  the 
way  of  fiction.  One  of  the  earliest  romances  of  this  time 
was  the  Mokuzu  Monogatari , a highly  melodramatic  tale  of 
love,  jealousy,  and  revenge,  the  leading  feature  of  which  is 
of  such  a nature  as  to  debar  more  particular  description. 

The  Usuyuki  Monogatari  and  the  Hannosuke  no  Soshi 
(:  660)  both  relate  the  same  story.  A man  while  visiting 
the  temple  of  Kiyomidzu,  in  Kioto,  meets  a woman  named 
Usuyuki  (thin-snow).  They  love  and  are  united,  but  the 
woman  dies  soon  after,  and  the  man  shaves  his  head  and 
retires  to  a monastery. 

I BARA  Saikaku  was  the  founder  of  a new  school  of 
popular  writing  in  Japan.  He  revived  a class  of  com- 
position which  had  been  sadly  neglected  since  the  days 
of  Murasaki  no  Shikibu  and  Sei  Shonagon,  and  gave  to 
the  world  a large  number  of  volumes  consisting  of  tales, 
novels,  and  sketches  of  contemporary  life  and  manners. 
The  latter  are  extremely  lifelike  and  humorous.  Sai- 
kaku was  a resident  of  Osaka,  where  he  followed  the 
profession  of  composer  of  Haikai.  The  world  has  very 
willingly  forgotten  his  poetry.  Nor  have  the  short  dra- 
matic pieces  which  he  wrote  for  the  Osaka  stage  fared 
much  better  with  posterity.  He  was  a man  of  no 
learning.  Bakin  says  that  he  had  not  a single  Chinese 
character  in  his  belly,1  and  his  books,  most  of  which 
have  very  little  story,  are  mainly  descriptions  of  the  man- 

1 The  seat  of  knowledge,  according  to  the  Chinese  and  Japanese. 


SAIKAKU 


269 

ners  and  customs  of  the  great  lupanars  which  then,  as 
now,  formed  a prominent  feature  of  the  principal  cities 
of  Japan.  The  very  titles  of  some  of  them  are  too  gross 
for  quotation.  The  immoral  tendency  of  his  works  was 
denounced  even  in  his  own  day  by  a hostile  critic  under 
the  suggestive  title  Saikaku  no  Jigoku  Mcguri  (“  Saikaku 
in  Hell”),  and  led  to  their  suppression  by  the  Govern- 
ment. It  is  only  recently  that  a new  edition  has  been 
permitted  to  appear,  the  reason  for  this  tolerance  being 
perhaps  the  circumstance  that  the  fugitive  humour  of 
fast  life  in  the  seventeenth  century  has  become  in  a great 
measure  unintelligible  to  modern  readers. 

Saikaku  has  written  one  decent  book,  a collection  of 
gossipy  stories  about  his  fellow-writers  of  Haikai.  It 
is  entitled  Saikaku  Nagori  no  Tomot  and  was  published 
posthumously  in  1699.  He  died  in  1693,  in  his  fifty- 
second  year. 

For  various  reasons  it  is  impossible  to  give  a really 
characteristic  specimen  of  Saikaku’s  writings.  The  fol- 
lowing is  a story  of  the  Enoch  Arden  class,  with  a 
Japanese  ending.  It  is  one  of  a series  of  tales  woven 
into  a work  entitled  Fudokoro^  no  Suzuri  or  “ Bosom  Ink- 
slab,”  a fanciful  title  for  what  we  might  call  Notes  of 
Travel  (1687).  This  work  is  less  objectionable  than  most 
of  his  productions  : — 

“ Listening  to  the  cries  of  the  plovers  that  frequent 
the  Isle  of  Awaji,  one  may  perceive  the  sadness  of  the 
things  of  this  world. 

“ Our  junk  anchored  for  the  night  in  a harbour  called 
Yashima.  A wretched  place  it  was.  With  what  eyes 
could  the  poet  have  regarded  it  who  called  it  'the 
flowery  Yashima'?  Even  though  it  was  spring,  there 
were  no  cherry-flowers  so,  with  feelings  suited  to  an 


270 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


autumn  eve,  I approached  a mat-roofed  shed  which 
stood  near  the  beach.  There  were  some  women 
assembled  here  enjoying  themselves  over  a cup  of  tea. 
Usually  it  would  have  been  a case  of  commonplace  ill- 
natured  daughter-in-law  gossip  ; but  judging  from  their 
excited  manners  that  something  unusual  was  going  on, 
I inquired  what  was  the  subject  of  their  important-seem- 
ing conversation.  It  appeared  that  a fisherman  of  this 
shore,  by  name  Hokugan  Kiuroku,  was  in  the  habit  of 
hiring  himself  annually  for  the  sardine  fishery  off  the 
east  coast.  He  usually  went  down  there  in  company 
with  many  others,  but  the  previous  autumn  nobody  else 
came  forward,  and  so  he  wilfully  went  alone.  Time 
passed  and  nothing  was  heard  of  him.  Being  an  illiterate 
man,  he  naturally  held  little  communication  with  the 
world,  and  thus  became  a cause  of  anxiety  to  his  rela- 
tions. That  autumn  there  were  many  storms,  and  great 
numbers  of  fishing- vessels  were  lost.  All  his  family,  when 
they  listened  to  the  noise  of  the  wind,  lamented,  ‘Ah! 
Kiuroku  is  no  more  of  this  world.’  Others  talked  as 
if  they  had  actually  witnessed  his  end.  There  was  a 
rumour  that  two  hundred  and  fifty  men  had  perished  in  a 
body  in  the  outer  sea,  and  all  congratulated  themselves 
that  owing  to  a presentiment  of  ill-luck  they  had  this 
year  stayed  at  home.  His  wife  hearing  this,  even  in  the 
depth  of  her  misery  and  sorrow,  felt  her  condition  still 
more  profoundly  wretched.  Morning  and  evening  she 
could  think  of  nothing  else,  to  such  a degree  that  she 
was  on  the  point  of  throwing  away  her  life.  Thus  she 
gave  proof  of  a gentle,  womanly  heart.  Moreover,  Kiu- 
roku, in  his  capacity  of  iri-muko ,l  had  been  on  excellent 
terms  with  his  wife,  and  had  done  his  duty  faithfully 

1 Adopted  heir  and  son-in-law. 


SAIKAKU  271 

towards  her  parents,  so  that  when  she  remembered  his 
position,  his  loss  was  a source  of  great  grief  to  her. 

“Winter  arrived,  spring  came  and  went,  nearly  a year 
passed  with  no  news  of  him.  There  could  be  no  longer 
any  doubt  that  he  was  dead.  The  day  on  which  he  said 
good-bye  and  left  his  native  village  was  chosen  for  the 
anniversary  of  his  death.  Priests  said  the  proper  masses, 
his  personal  effects  were  restored  to  his  true  parents, 
and,  as  is  the  way  of  the  world,  he  began  gradually  to  be 
forgotten. 

“Now  his  wife  was  still  young.  People  thought  it  a 
pity  she  should  remain  a widow,  and  urged  her  to  take  a 
second  husband  for  the  relief  of  her  parents’  cares,  as  was 
the  custom.  But  she  could  by  no  means  be  persuaded 
to  give  her  consent.  She  resolved  by-and-by  to  shave 
her  head,  to  abandon  the  world,  and  with  profound 
1 incense-and-flowers ' purpose  of  heart  to  devote  herself 
to  her  husband's  memory.  Everybody  did  his  best  to 
dissuade  her,  saying  first  of  all  how  undutiful  it  would  be 
towards  her  parents.  In  short,  they  insisted  with  such 
success  that  a lucky  day  was  chosen  for  her  nuptials. 
The  man  selected  for  her  husband  was  a fisherman  of 
the  same  village,  named  Iso  no  Mokubei,  a far  better 
match  than  Kiuroku,  and  satisfactory  in  every  respect. 
The  parents  rejoiced,  the  friends  exulted,  and  though  it 
was  a second  marriage,  even  in  this  fishing  hamlet  every- 
thing was  done  in  a style  equal  to  that  of  the  ceremony 
of  breeching  a boy.  The  women  had  on  their  boxwood 
hair-combs  ; sake  was  circulated  freely.  But  there  are 
jealous  people  everywhere,  and  the  company  were  dis- 
turbed from  time  to  time  by  pebbles  flung  against  the 
door.  As  the  night  went  on,  this  too  ceased.  The  bride 
and  bridegroom  retired  to  their  chamber,  and  placing 


2^2 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


their  wooden  pillows  side  by  side,  began  a confidential 
talk,  in  which  Kiuroku  was  naturally  forgotten.  The 
wedding  company,  fatigued  with  their  enjoyment  of  the 
previous  night,  slept  soundly  late  into  the  next  morning. 
When  the  door  was  opened,  there  was  Kiuroku  in  his 
travelling  garb.  He  walked  in  with  an  air  of  being  at 
home,  his  heart  full  of  love  for  the  wife  he  had  not 
seen  for  so  long.  He  entered  the  disordered  sleeping- 
chamber,  which  was  lighted  up  by  a ray  of  sunshine 
from  the  southern  window.  A feeling  of  pride  came 
over  him  when  he  caught  a glimpse  of  his  wife’s  hair, 
which  was  more  beautiful  than  ever  ‘The  prettiest 
woman  in  this  village,'  he  thought  to  himself.  But 
observing  her  companion,  his  dream  was  shattered.  The 
woman,  too,  waking  from  her  joy,  burst  into  tears,  and 
Mokubei  came  out,  looking  much  embarrassed.  With  a 
strange  expression  on  his  countenance,  ‘What  is  this  ?' 
asked  Kiuroku.  Mokubei  explained  what  had  happened, 
laying  the  blame  of  this  terrible  misadventure  on  fate. 
What  made  things  worse  was  the  presence  of  so  many 
people,  and  the  fact  that  Mokubei  had  for  a long  time 
been  on  bad  terms  with  Kiuroku.  But  Kiuroku,  showing 
him  a more  friendly  cheer  than  usual,  collected  himself 
and  related  the  story  of  his  sufferings  when  cast  away 
on  the  remote  sea.  When  he  had  done  he  calmly 
stabbed  his  wife,  cut  down  Mokubei,  and  with  the  same 
sword  put  an  end  to  himself.  What  a heroic  winding-up 
of  the  matter  for  a mere  rustic  ! ” 

Children’s  Tales 

To  the  fiction  of  the  seventeenth  century  belong  a 
number  of  children’s  tales,1  which  retain  their  popularity 

1 Most  of  these  have  been  translated  by  Mr.  Mitford  in  his  Tales  of  Old  Japan. 


POPULAR  DRAMA 


* 273 


even  at  the  present  day,  unless  they  have  been  swept 
away  of  late  years  by  the  advancing  tide  of  European 
civilisation.  Though  they  bear  a general  resemblance  to 
such  stories  as  Cinderella , and  appear  in  various  forms, 
I am  inclined  to  think  that  they  are  not  really  folk-lore, 
but  had  definite  authors,  whose  names  have  long  been 
forgotten.  The  Nedzumi  no  Yomeiri  (“  Rat’s  Wedding  ”) 
dates  from  before  1661,  while  of  the  Saru-kani  Kassen 
(“  Battle  of  the  Ape  and  the  Crab  ”)  and  the  Shitakin 
Suzume  (“Tongue-cut  Sparrow  ”)  we  have  “new  editions” 
which  bear  the  date  of  Hoyei  (1704-1711).  Others  are 
Momotaro  (“  Little  Peachling”),  Hana  Sakaye  Jiji  (“The 
Old  Man  who  made  Trees  to  Blossom  ”),  Usagi  no  Kataki- 
uchi  (“The  Hare’s  Revenge”),  and  Urashima  Tar5  (a 
version  of  the  legend  told  above,  p.  39). 

The  novelist  Bakin,  a very  competent  authority  on 
folk-lore,  was  much  interested  in  these  tales,  and  has 
been  at  the  pains  to  ransack  Chinese  and  Japanese  litera- 
ture for  anything  which  might  be  thought  to  suggest  the 
incidents  related  in  them.1 

The  Popular  Drama — Chikamatsu 

It  would  not  be  quite  correct  to  say  that  the  popular 
drama  owed  nothing  to  the  No.  But  it  certainly  followed 
a different  and  independent  line  of  development.  Its 
literary  progenitor  is  the  Taiheiki , which,  it  may  be  re- 
membered, was  chanted  or  recited  in  public  by  men  who 
made  this  their  profession.  The  Taiheiki  was  followed 
by  more  or  less  dramatic  stories,  which  were  recited  by 
a single  person  seated  before  a desk,  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  taps  of  a fan  to  mark  the  time  or  to  give  emphasis. 
To  this  was  subsequently  added  the  music  of  the  sami- 

1 See  his  Yctiseki  Zasshi,  vol.  iv. 


274 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


sen,  a three -stringed  guitar  recently  introduced  from 
Loochoo.  A favourite  story  for  this  purpose  was  the 
Joruri  jiu-ni  dan  Sos/ii , written  towards  the  end  of  the 
Muromachi  period.  It  relates  the  loves  of  the  famous 
Yoshitsune  with  a heroine  whose  name,  Joruri,  is  now 
used  as  a synonym  for  a whole  class  of  dramatic  com- 
positions. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  we 
hear  of  Joruri-Katari  (chanters  of  Joruri)  at  Yedo,  for 
whom  two  authors  named  Oka  Seibei  and  Yonomiya 
Yajiro  are  said  to  have  written  a number  of  pieces, 
some  of  which,  known  as  Kompira-bon , are  still  in  ex- 
- istence.  They  relate  the  adventures  of  a hero  named 
Kompira,  nine  feet  two  inches  high,  with  a face  so  red 
that  nothing  could  be  redder,  whose  doughty  deeds  in 
quelling  demons  and  slaying  savage  beasts  are  still  the 
delight  of  the  Japanese  schoolboy. 

The  first  Kabuki  Shibai,  or  popular  theatre,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  No  Shibai,  and  from  the  Ayatsuri  Shibai, 
or  marionette  theatre,  is  said  to  have  been  established  at 
Kioto  early  in  the  seventeenth  century.  We  are  told  that 
a priestess  of  the  great  temple  of  Kidzuki  in  Idzumo, 
named  O Kuni,  having  made  the  acquaintance  of  one 
Nagoya  Sanzaburo,  ran  away  with  him  to  Kioto.  There 
they  got  together  a number  of  dancing-girls  and  gave 
performances  on  the  bank  of  the  river  Kamo,  where  the 
Theatre  Street  stands  at  the  present  day.  O Kuni  as  a 
priestess  would  naturally  be  acquainted  with  the  panto- 
mimic dances  performed  in  honour  of  the  Shinto  gods, 
and  was  doubtless  herself  a trained  dancer  and  mime. 
Owing  to  certain  abuses,  the  employment  of  women  as 
actors  was  put  a stop  to  by  the  authorities.  Their  place 
was  taken  by  boys,  but  this  also  was  eventually  prohibited. 


CHIKAMATSU 


275 

A marionette  theatre  was  next  established.  In  1661  it 
was  transferred  to  Osaka,  where  it  was  famous  in  sub- 
sequent dramatic  history  as  the  Takemoto  Za.  The 
marionette  theatre  is  still  popular  in  Japan.  The  puppets 
are  elaborate  contrivances,  fitted  with  machinery  for 
rolling  the  eyeballs,  raising  the  eyebrows,  opening  and 
closing  the  mouth,  moving  the  fingers  so  as  to  grasp  and 
flirt  a fan,  and  so  on.  The  popularity  of  the  Takemoto 
Za  procured  it  several  rivals,  the  most  celebrated  of 
which  was  the  Toyotake  Za. 

The  fame  of  the  Takemoto  Za  was  chiefly  owing  to  the 
genius  of  Chikamatsu  Monzayemon,  who  is  unquestion- 
ably the  most  prominent  figure  in  the  history  of  the 
Japanese  drama.  The  birthplace  of  this  remarkable 
man  has  been  as  much  disputed  as  that  of  Homer.  The 
most  probable  statement  is  that  he  was  a Samurai  of 
Hagi,  in  Choshiu,  where  he  was  born  in  1653.  It  is  said 
that  in  his  boyhood  he  became  a priest.  He  himself  tells 
us  that  he  was  a retainer  of  more  than  one  noble  house 
in  Kioto.  For  some  reason  his  services  ceased,  and  he 
became  a Ronin.  The  Ronin,  that  is,  a Samurai  who  has 
been  dismissed  for  misconduct,  or  whose  indocile  temper 
has  found  the  severe  discipline  of  the  Yashiki  irksome 
beyond  endurance,  is  a very  familiar  personage  during 
the  Yedo  period  of  Japanese  history,  not  only  in  fiction, 
but  in  real  life.  Countless  deeds  of  desperate  courage 
and  many  atrocious  crimes  are  related  of  them,  among 
which  may  be  mentioned  the  well-known  revenge  of  the 
forty-seven  Ronins  and  their  subsequent  suicide,  and  the 
murderous  attacks  on  the  British  Legation  in  1861  and 
1862.  In  the  early  days  of  foreign  intercourse  with 
Japan,  Ronin  was  a word  of  fear  to  all  quiet,  law-abiding 
people.  It  is  significant  that  the  principal  playwright 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


276 

as  well  as  the  most  eminent  novelist  (Bakin)  of  this 
period  should  both  belong  to  the  ranks  of  these  homines 
declasses . 

After  leaving  the  service  of  the  Kioto  nobles,  Chika- 
matsu  wrote  a number  of  stories  and  pieces  of  no  great 
merit  for  dramatic  performance  at  Kioto.  One  of  these, 
formerly  attributed  to  Saikaku,  is  the  Kaijin  Yashima , 
which  bears  traces  of  a study  of  the  older  N5  drama  and 
Kiogen.  Its  subject  is  an  episode  in  the  life  of  Yoshit- 
sune.  Chikamatsu’s  earliest  dated  work  was  written  in 
1685.  In  1690  he  took  up  his  residence  in  Osaka,  when 
his  connection  with  the  Takemoto  marionette  theatre 
^ began.  From  this  time  until  his  death  in  1724,  he  pro- 
duced in  rapid  succession  a number  of  dramas  which, 
whatever  their  faults,  leave  no  doubt  of  his  possessing  a 
fertile  and  inventive  genius. 

On  a superficial  examination  of  one  of  Chikamatsu's 
plays,  a European  reader  might  fail  to  recognise  the  fact 
that  it  is  a drama  at  all,  and  take  it  for  a romance  with 
rather  more  than  the  usual  proportion  of  dialogue.  All 
the  Joruri  contain  a large  narrative  element  of  a more  or 
less  poetical  character.  This  part  of  the  play  is  chanted 
to  music  by  a chorus  seated  on  a platform  overlooking 
the  stage  on  the  spectator's  right,  where  also  the  persons 
sit  who  declaim  the  speeches  of  the  puppet  actors.  It  is 
the  narrative  part  which  is  more  especially  designated  by 
the  term  Joruri.  The  chorus  which  recites  it  is  the  true 
successor  of  the  Joruri-Katari  or  dramatic  reciters  above 
mentioned,  and  is  the  nucleus  of  the  whole,  the  dialogue 
being  at  first  merely  subsidiary.  It  not  only  supplies  a 
thread  of  story  to  connect  the  scenes  represented  by 
the  puppets  on  the  stage,  but  aids  the  imagination  of 
the  audience  by  describing  expressions  of  countenance, 


CHIKAMATSU  277 

scenery,  and  much  more  that  the  resources  of  a theatre, 
and  especially  of  a marionette  theatre,  fail  to  convey. 

On  closer  examination,  however,  it  becomes  apparent 
that  Chikamatsu's  works  are  not  really  romances,  but 
stage -plays.  They  have  a well-marked  movement  of 
plot  from  the  opening  scene  up  to  the  final  catastrophe  ; 
they  abound  in  dramatic  situations,  and  many  of  the 
scenes  are  obviously  designed  with  a view  to  spectacular 
effect.  These  things  were  new  in  Japan,  and  to  Chika- 
matsu  therefore  belongs  the  credit  of  being  the  creator 
of  the  Japanese  drama. 

Chikamatsu’s  plays  are  classified  by  the  Japanese  as 
Jidai-Mono  or  historical  plays,  and  Sewa-Mono  or  dramas 
of  life  and  manners.  With  the  exception  of  a few  in 
three  acts,  they  are  all  plays  of  five  acts;  but  whether  the 
choice  of  this  consecrated  number  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  fact  that  the  Dutch  were  in  the  habit  of  visiting 
the  theatres  of  Kioto  and  Osaka  on  their  periodical 
journeys  to  Yedo  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  Shogun,  I 
have  not  been  able  to  ascertain.  Nor  is  it  possible  to 
verify  a suspicion  that  the  arrangements  of  the  Japanese 
popular  theatre,  with  its  capacious  pit  and  galleries,  and 
a stage  well  furnished  with  scenery,  trap-doors,  turn- 
tables (as  in  ancient  Greece),  and  other  appliances,  may 
owe  something  to  hints  given  by  these  visitors.  In  these 
respects  the  Japanese  popular  theatre  is  certainly  far  in 
advance  of  any  other  in  Asia,  and  more  particularly  of  the 
No  Shibai  above  described. 

Chikamatsu  was  a voluminous  writer.  The  modern 
edition  of  his  selected  works  comprises  fifty-one  plays, 
and  runs  to  more  than  two  thousand  closely  printed 
pages.  He  is  credited  with  the  authorship  of  as  many 
more.  Each  is  of  about  the  same  length  as  one  of 


278  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Shakespeare’s  plays,  so  that  they  constitute  a truly  for- 
midable bulk  of  literary  matter.  The  novelist  Kioden 
tells  us  that  a three-act  piece  of  his  called  Naga-machi 
onna  Hara-kiri  (“  The  Woman's  Hara-kiri a gruesome 
title)  was  written  in  a single  night,  and  the  statement, 
whether  true  or  not,  bears  testimony  to  the  opinion 
entertained  by  his  countrymen  of  his  facility  of  com- 
position. His  works  deal  with  all  manner  of  subjects. 
They  show  that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  Shinto 
and  Buddhist  religions,  and  that  he  possessed  a wide 
and  varied  knowledge  of  the  history  and  institutions  of 
Japan  and  China. 

Of  Chikamatsu’s  merits  as  a dramatist  and  poet  it 
behoves  a European  writer  to  speak  with  some  degree  of 
reserve,  more  especially  as  it  is  impossible  to  read  more 
than  a tithe  of  his  works.  The  admiration  of  his  own 
countrymen  for  him  is  unbounded,  some  of  them  going  so 
far  as  to  compare  him  with  Shakespeare.  It  is  certainly 
possible  to  trace  resemblances.  Both  in  Shakespeare 
and  Chikamatsu,  comedy  frequently  treads  on  the  heels 
of  tragedy ; in  both,  prose  is  intermixed  with  poetry,  and 
an  exalted  style  of  diction  suited  to  monarchs  and  nobles 
alternates  with  the  speech  of  the  common  people ; both 
divided  their  attention  between  historical  and  other 
dramas ; both  possessed  the  fullest  command  of  the  re- 
sources of  their  respective  languages,  and  both  are  tainted 
with  a grosser  element  which  is  rejected  by  the  more 
refined  taste  of  later  times.  It  may  be  added  that  neither 
Shakespeare  nor  Chikamatsu  is  classical  in  the  sense  in 
which  we  apply  that  term  to  Sophocles  and  Racine. 
Chikamatsu  in  particular  is  very  far  removed  indeed  from 
the  classical  type. 

But  few  such  comparisons  have  any  value,  and  it  is 


CHIKAMATSU 


279 


really  idle  to  compare  Shakespeare  with  a writer  whose 
portraiture  of  character  is  rudimentary,  whose  incidents 
are  outrageously  extravagant  and  improbable,  whose 
philosophy  of  life  is  wholly  wanting  in  originality  or 
depth,  and  who  is  constantly  introducing  scenes  brutal 
and  revolting  to  a degree  inconceivable  to  the  Western 
mind.  Of  this  last  blemish  his  audiences  must  share 
the  responsibility.  Nothing  seems  to  have  given  greater 
pleasure  to  these  smug,  unwarlike  shopmen  and  me- 
chanics with  their  womankind  (no  Samurai  with  any 
self-respect  ever  entered  a theatre)  than  sanguinary  com- 
bats, and  scenes  of  torture,  suicide,  and  murder.  They 
loved  to  have  their  blood  curdled,  and  their  flesh  made 
to  creep,  and  Chikamatsu,  like  other  writers  of  his  day, 
took  care  to  supply  this  demand  in  no  stinted  measure. 
Defects  like  these  are  only  partially  compensated  for  by 
a certain  barbaric  vigour  and  luxuriance  which  undoubt- 
edly distinguishes  his  works.  That  such  a writer  should 
hold  the  position  of  the  prince  of  Japanese  dramatists 
only  shows  by  what  an  imperfect  standard  this  art  is 
judged  in  Japan. 

It  is  difficult  for  a Western  reader  to  understand  the 
esteem  in  which  Chikamatsu  is  held  by  his  countrymen 
as  a poet.  In  that  part  of  his  plays  which  is  chanted 
to  music  by  the  chorus  we  may,  it  is  true,  find  metre, 
rhythmical  cadence,  fit  language,  and  play  of  fancy,  but 
all  in  a very  modest  degree.  The  metrical  form  adopted 
by  him  is  the  usual  alternation  of  seven  and  five  syllable 
phrases,  which  is  even  less  substantial  than  our  ordinary 
blank  verse,  or  the  irregular,  unrhymed  lines  favoured 
by  Southey.  Nor  does  he  adhere  strictly  even  to 
this.  Longer  or  shorter  lines  are  introduced  from  time 
to  time  for  no  other  apparent  reason  than  the  author’s 


28o 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


convenience.  The  rhythmical  quality  of  his  poetry  is 
unmistakable  ; but,  for  reasons  already  pointed  out,  the 
Japanese  language  does  not  lend  itself  to  any  but  the 
simplest  harmonies  of  this  kind.  A more  serious  blemish 
is  the  abundant  use  of  pivot-words  and  other  meretricious 
ornaments,  which  are  fatal  to  coherent  sense,  and  de- 
structive to  grammar.  The  general  result  is  seldom  such 
as  to  satisfy  a European  taste. 

It  will  nevertheless,  I think,  be  found  that  Chikamatsu’s 
poetry,  with  all  its  faults,  occupies  an  important  place 
in  the  history  of  Japanese  literature.  The  writers  of 
No  had  done  something  to  extend  the  domain  of  the 
poetic  art  beyond  the  narrow  limits  prescribed  by 
tradition  : Chikamatsu  continued  their  work,  and  took 
possession  of,  if  he  failed  to  reclaim,  large  tracts  of 
subject-matter  which  had  been  neglected  by  his  prede- 
cessors. The  older  poetry  may  be  compared  to  a trim 
garden  of  a few  yards  square:  Chikamatsu’s  Joruri 

resembles  a wide  clearing  in  a forest  where  the  pro- 
ducts of  a rude  agriculture  are  seen  growing  among 
tree-stumps  and  jungle. 

Chikamatsu's  most  famous  play  is  one  which  is  entitled 
Kokusenya  Kassen  (1715),  or  the  “ Battles  of  Kokusenya.” 
Kokusenya  (called  Coxinga  by  older  European  writers 
on  Japan)  was  a famous  pirate,  the  son  of  a Chinese  by 
a Japanese  mother,  who  played  a considerable  part  in 
the  wars  of  the  last  days  of  the  Ming  dynasty  in  China. 
As  this  is  considered  the  masterpiece  of  the  greatest  of 
Japanese  dramatists,  it  seems  desirable  to  give  an  ana- 
lysis of  it  here. 

ACT  I 

The  scene  opens  at  the  court  of  Nanking.  The  last  of 
the  Ming  Emperors  is  seen  surrounded  by  his  ministers. 


CHIKAMATSU 


28 


An  envoy  from  the  King  of  Tartary  appears,  bringing 
rich  presents,  which  are  piled  up  in  the  courtyard.  He 
makes  a speech  in  which,  on  behalf  of  his  master,  he 
asks  for  Kwasei,  the  favourite  concubine  of  the  Emperor, 
so  that  he  may  make  her  his  queen,  and  thus  cement 
friendship  between  the  two  powers. 

The  Emperor  and  his  court  are  much  disturbed  by 
this  proposal,  as  Kwasei  was  just  then  expected  to 
give  birth  to  an  heir  to  the  Ming  throne.  A traitor- 
ous minister  named  Ri  Toten  urges  its  acceptance. 
General  Go  Sankei  rushes  forward  and  protests  in- 
dignantly, ordering  the  Tartar  King's  presents  to  be 
taken  away.  The  Tartar  envoy  replies  with  spirit, 
and  is  about  to  fling  out  of  the  Imperial  presence, 
when  Ri  Toten  strives  to  pacify  him.  To  enforce  his 
appeal,  he  digs  out  his  own  left  eye  with  a dagger,  and 
hands  it  on  an  ivory  slab  to  the  envoy,  who  receives 
it  with  respect,  and  accepts  it  in  satisfaction  for  Go 
Sankei’s  insult  to  his  sovereign  and  himself.  The  envoy 
takes  his  departure. 

The  next  scene  is  in  the  apartment  of  the  Emperor's 
younger  sister.  The  Emperor  appears,  accompanied 
by  two  hundred  youthful  inmates  of  his  harem,  half  of 
whom  bear  branches  of  flowering  plum  and  half  of 
cherry.  They  draw  up  on  each  side  of  the  stage.  The 
Emperor  tells  his  sister  of  Ri  Toten's  noble  self-sacrifice, 
and  again  urges  the  latter's  suit  for  the  hand  of  the 
Princess,  which  had  previously  been  rejected  by  her, 
suggesting  that  her  answer  should  depend  on  the  result 
of  a battle  between  the  plum  and  cherry  squadrons  of 
ladies.  The  Princess  agrees  to  this,  and  puts  herself  at 
the  head  of  the  plum  party,  who,  acting  in  collusion  with 
the  Emperor,  allow  themselves  to  be  defeated. 


282  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Go  Sankei  now  rushes  in,  clad  in  full  armour,  and  with 
his  lance  drives  off  both  squadrons.  He  remonstrates 
with  the  Emperor  for  setting  an  example  in  the  palace 
which,  if  followed  by  the  people,  would  lead  to  disas- 
trous civil  tumults,  charges  Ri  Toten  with  treachery, 
and  by  an  elaborate  analysis  of  the  Chinese  written 
character  for  Ming,  the  name  of  the  dynasty,  proves 
that  Ri  Toten’s  digging  out  his  eye  was  merely  a private 
signal  to  the  Tartar  envoy  that  the  time  was  ripe  for  the 
execution  of  their  treacherous  schemes.  The  Emperor 
scoffs  at  this  learned  sophistry,  and  kicks  Go  Sankei  on 
the  forehead  with  his  Imperial  foot. 

From  all  sides  there  now  comes  a sound  of  conchs, 
drums,  and  battle  shouts.  The  Tartars  have  arrived,  and 
are  surrounding  the  palace.  Their  general  rides  into  the 
courtyard.  He  tells  the  Emperor  that  the  Tartar  King's 
love  for  Kwasei  was  all  a pretence,  and  that  his  real 
object  was  the  destruction  of  the  unborn  heir  to  the 
Ming  throne.  He  avows  Ri  Toten's  treacherous  com- 
plicity, and  announces  to  Go  Sankei  his  intention  of 
carrying  off  the  Emperor  and  Kwasei  as  prisoners, 
and  of  making  them  serve  as  menials  in  his  master’s 
kitchen. 

Go  Sankei's  wife,  Riuka,  now  appears  with  an  infant 
in  her  arms.  She  flies  with  the  Princess  by  a postern 
gate,  leaving  her  child  behind.  Go  Sankei  makes  a sally, 
and  with  one  hundred  men  drives  off  several  millions  of 
the  enemy.  In  his  absence  Ri  Toten's  younger  brother, 
Ri  Kaiho,  murders  the  Emperor,  cuts  off  his  head,  and 
binds  Kwasei.  Go  Sankei  returns,  cleaves  Ri  Kaiho  in 
two,  releases  Kwasei,  and  reverently  sets  up  the  Em- 
peror’s headless  trunk,  which  he  adorns  with  the  heredi- 
tary regalia.  While  he  is  hesitating  whether  to  save  the 


CHIKAMATSU 


283 


Emperor's  body  or  the  pregnant  consort  Kwasei,  the 
enemy  renew  their  attack.  Having  beaten  them  off,  he 
resolves  to  save  the  unborn  heir  to  the  throne,  and  to 
abandon  the  corpse. 

Meanwhile  his  own  infant  child  begins  to  cry  for  his 
natural  nourishment.  “ What  a nuisance!"  he  ex- 
claims. But  on  second  thoughts  he  reflects  that  the 
child  is  his  own  heir,  and  that  it  would  be  on  the  whole 
better  to  save  him.  So  he  binds  him  firmly  to  the  shaft 
of  his  spear  and  retreats  to  the  seashore  with  Kwasei, 
pursued  by  the  enemy.  Kwasei  is  killed  by  a bullet, 
and  Go  Sankei,  by  an  improvised  Cesarean  operation 
( corain  populo  /),  rescues  her  living  child,  a beautiful  boy, 
which  he  wraps  in  his  dead  mother’s  sleeve.  “ But 
stay  ! if  the  enemy  find  that  the  child  is  gone,  they  will 
spare  no  pains  to  discover  it."  So  he  stabs  his  own 
child,  who,  it  may  be  remembered,  was  all  this  time 
lashed  to  the  shaft  of  his  spear,  and  substitutes  it  for 
the  infant  Prince.  Exit  Go  Sankei. 

Enter  Go  Sankei’s  wife  with  the  Princess.  They  hide 
among  the  reeds  by  the  seashore.  A Tartar  officer  named 
Godatsu  follows  in  pursuit.  He  takes  a small  boat  and 
searches  all  the  creeks  near  them.  Riuka  (Go  Sankei’s 
wife)  catches  his  oar  and  overturns  his  boat.  He  goes 
to  the  bottom,  and  Riuka  gets  into  the  boat  with  the 
Princess.  Godatsu  comes  up  from  below  all  dripping, 
and  a combat  ensues,  in  which  Godatsu  has  his  head  cut 
off  by  Riuka.  Then,  as  in  her  bedraggled  and  blood- 
stained condition  she  is  no  fit  company  for  a princess, 
she  shoves  off  the  boat  containing  the  latter,  which  is 
carried  away  by  the  wind  and  tide,  and  remains  behind 
on  the  shore.  The  chorus  describes  the  situation  in 
poetical  imagery. 


284 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ACT  II 

The  scene  changes  to  Hirado,  in  Japan.  Kokusenya, 
with  his  wife,  is  gathering  shellfish  on  the  seashore, 
when  a small  boat  approaches.  It  proves  to  contain 
the  Princess,  who  had  drifted  over  from  China.  Koku- 
senya’s  wife,  a low,  vulgar  woman,  who  provides  the 
comic  element  of  the  play,  is  overcome  with  laughter 
at  the  Chinese  which  the  Princess  and  her  husband  talk. 
Jealousy  then  gets  the  upper  hand,  but  this  gives  way 
to  respect  when  she  learns  the  rank  of  the  stranger. 

Kokusenya,  who  is  the  son  of  a trusted  minister  of 
the  Ming  Emperors,  makes  up  his  mind  to  restore  that 
dynasty,  and  proceeds  with  his  father  and  mother  to 
China,  leaving  the  Princess  in  his  wife's  charge.  On 
arriving  there,  they  resolve  to  seek  the  assistance  of 
Kanki,  a Chinese  magnate  who  had  married  a sister  of 
Kokusenya.  While  travelling  through  a forest  on  their 
way  to  his  castle,  Kokusenya  bearing  his  aged  mother 
on  his  back,  they  fall  in  with  a tiger.  Disdaining  to  use 
his  sword  against  the  beast,  Kokusenya  gains  the  mastery 
over  him  after  a struggle,  which,  doubtless,  gave  much 
gratification  to  the  “ groundlings  " of  the  Osaka  theatre. 
A hunting  party  arrives  ; their  leader  claims  the  tiger  for 
Ri  Toten,  the  traitorous  one-eyed  minister  of  the  first  act. 
Kokusenya  replies  in  a style  of  inimitable  braggadocio. 
With  the  tiger's  assistance  he  subdues  the  huntsmen,,  and 
forms  of  them  the  nucleus  of  an  army  with  which  to 
conquer  the  Tartar  invaders.  Kokusenya's  first  care  is 
to  cut  off  the  pig-tails  of  his  recruits,  and  to  give  them 
new  names,  in  which  Japanese  terminations  are  stuck 
on  to  names  indicative  of  their  foreign  origin.  One  of 


CHIKAMATSU  285 

these  names  is  Igirisu  (English)-bei.  We  may  well  wonder 
what  an  Englishman  was  doing  dans  cette  galere. 

ACT  III 

Kokusenya,  at  the  head  of  his  newly  recruited  force, 
arrives  before  Kanki’s  castle,  but  he  is  absent,  and  they 
are  refused  admittance.  The  old  mother,  however,  is 
permitted  to  enter  in  the  guise  of  a prisoner  bound  with 
cords.  Kanki  returns.  The  old  woman  begs  him 
earnestly  to  espouse  her  son  Kokusenya's  cause.  He 
forthwith  draws  his  sword  and  tries  to  kill  his  wife,  but 
is  prevented.  He  then  explains  that  he  has  not  suddenly 
gone  mad,  but  that  if  he  joined  Kokusenya  people  would 
say  he  was  influenced  by  women,  so  it  was  necessary  to 
remove  his  wife  as  a preliminary  to  granting  her  request. 
His  wife  being  still  alive,  this  was  impossible. 

News  of  this  refusal  being  conveyed  to  Kokusenya, 
he  bounds  over  the  moat  and  parapet  of  the  castle,1  and 
presents  himself  before  Kanki.  After  mutual  Homeric 
defiance  they  prepare  to  fight,  when  Kanki’s  wife  ex- 
poses her  breast,  showing  that  in  order  to  remove  all 
obstacle  to  the  plans  of  her  husband  and  brother,  she 
has  given  herself  a death-wound.  The  two  then  frater- 
nise, and  a quantity  of  warlike  gear  is  produced,  in 
which  Kokusenya  is  clad,  his  mother  looking  on  with 
great  admiration.  She  then  commits  suicide,  enjoining 
on  her  son  and  Kanki  to  show  no  weakness  in  fight- 
ing against  the  Tartars,  but  to  regard  them  as  the 
enemies  of  mother  and  wife.  She  dies  with  a smile 
on  her  face,  gazing  at  the  gallant  appearance  of  Koku- 
senya in  the  new  armour  supplied  him  by  Kanki. 

1 Incidents  like  this  remind  us  that  it  was  a marionette  theatre  for  which 
Chikamatsu  wrote.  Puppets  can  do  many  things  impossible  to  human  actors. 


286 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


ACT  IV 

We  now  return  to  Go  Sankei,  who,  at  the  end  of  the 
first  act,  had  retired  to  a secluded  place  among  the  hills 
with  the  heir  to  the  Ming  throne.  Here  follows  a Rip  van 
Winkle  episode,  at  the  end  of  which  Go  Sankei  finds  that 
the  young  Prince  has  become  a boy  of  seven,  whose 
voice  sounds  to  him  u like  the  first  song  of  the  nightingale 
heard  in  some  secluded  valley  where  snow  still  lies.” 
Kokusenya's  father  now  appears  upon  the  scene,  accom- 
panied by  Kokusenya's  wife  and  the  Princess,  who  have 
come  over  from  Japan.  Whilst  they  are  giving  mutual 
explanations  the  enemy  come  in  chase  ; but  the  gods 
having  been  prayed  to,  a cloud  issues  from  a cave  and 
forms  a bridge,  over  which  they  cross  an  abyss  to  the 
mountain  on  the  other  side.  The  enemy  attempt  to 
follow,  but  the  bridge  is  blown  away  by  a puff  of  wind. 
The  five  hundred  foes  tumble  to  the  bottom  and  are 
crushed  to  pieces. 

ACT  V 

Ivanki,  Kokusenya,  and  Go  Sankei  hold  a grand  council 
of  war,  at  which  the  most  impossible  nonsense  is  talked. 
A letter  arrives  from  Kokusenya's  father,  stating  that 
finding  life  at  his  age,  seventy-three,  not  worth  living, 
he  is  about  to  find  death  in  the  enemy’s  ranks.  The 
three,  full  of  determination  to  save  him,  rush  off  to 
Nanking,  now  the  Tartar  King’s  stronghold. 

The  scene  changes  to  Nanking.  Kokusenya’s  father 
appears  before  the  gate  and  challenges  Ri  Toten  to  single 
combat.  The  Tartar  King  is  seen  on  the  battlements. 
By  his  order  the  old  man  is  seized  and  brought  into 
the  city.  Kokusenya  and  his  party  appear  before  the 


CHIKAMATSU 


287 


walls.  Ri  Toten  tells  Kokusenya  that  he  must  choose 
between  his  father  committing  hara-kiri  or  their  both 
going  back  to  Japan.  Consternation  of  Kokusenya 
and  his  party.  Speech  by  Kokusenya's  father,  remind- 
ing him  of  his  mother's  dying  injunctions,  and  adjuring 
him  not  to  think  of  his  fate.  Kokusenya  is  about  to 
spring  at  the  Tartar  King,  but  is  deterred  by  Ri  Toten 
putting  his  sword  to  the  old  man's  throat.  Go  Sankei 
now  throws  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Tartar  King,  offer- 
ing to  give  up  Kokusenya  if  the  lives  of  the  other  two 
were  spared.  No  sooner  has  the  Tartar  King  granted 
this  request  than  Go  Sankei  springs  at  him,  knocks  him 
over,  and  binds  him.  Kokusenya  also  rushes  forward, 
releases  his  father,  and  seizes  Ri  Toten.  The  Tartar 
King  has  five  hundred  blows  of  a bamboo  administered 
to  him,  and  is  sent  off  a prisoner  to  Japan,  Ri  Toten’s 
head  is  wrenched  off  there  and  then,  and  the  play  ends 
amid  general  rejoicing'. 

A summary  of  this  kind  gives  too  much  prominence 
to  the  defects  of  this  most  famous  of  Japanese  dramas. 
Its  manner  is  better  than  its  matter.  There  is  a copious 
flow  of  sonorous  and  often  picturesque  language,  of 
exalted  sentiment,  and  sententious  oratory,  which  divert 
the  reader's  (and  still  more  the  audience's)  attention  from 
the  improbabilities  of  the  story.  The  personages  do  and 
say  many  absurd  things  ; yet  they  speak  and  bear  them- 
selves in  a manner  not  altogether  unworthy  of  tragic 
heroes.  It  may  be  added  that  even  in  his  maddest 
moods  Chikamatsu  never  neglects  dramatic  force  of 
situation,  and  that  he  has  a turn  for  impressive  dialogue 
which  ought  not  to  be  ignored.  Dulness  is  not  among 
the  numerous  faults  of  the  Kokusenya  Kassen, 

The  European  reader  is  not  likely  to  relish  the  more 


288 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


poetical  passages  of  this  drama,  with  their  pivot-words 
and  closely  woven  allusive  phrases.  Yet  possibly  there 
is  more  in  them  than  we  are  willing  to  acknowledge. 
The  Japanese  find  them  the  choicest  part  of  the  work, 
and  they  might  not  unreasonably  deny  to  foreigners  the 
right  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the  finer  raptures  of  their 
national  muse.  As  a poet  Chikamatsu  may  readily  be 
allowed  one  merit : if  Japan  ever  produces  epic,  drama- 
tic, or  long  narrative  poems  of  importance,  he  will  have 
done  much  to  prepare  the  way. 

The  popularity  of  the  Kokusenya  Kassen  with  the 
audiences  of  Osaka  was  so  great  as  to  call  for  two  con- 
tinuations in  the  same  style,  and  it  is  still  one  of  the 
stock  pieces  of  the  Japanese  theatre. 

Kabuki  Theatre 

Meanwhile  a somewhat  different  development  of  the 
dramatic  art  was  taking  place — chiefly  at  Yedo.  Kabuki 
theatres,  which  had  men  for  actors,  had  been  established 
there  before  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
pieces  produced  in  these  theatres  were  at  first  the  com- 
position of  the  actors  engaged  in  them,  but  towards  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century1  we  hear  of  definite 
authors  whose  works  were  published  under  the  title 
of  Kyaku-bon.  Native  critics  agree  that  the  Kyaku-bon 
contain  little  that  is  of  value  as  literature.  In  form 
they  approach  the  European  drama  far  more  nearly 
than  do  the  Joruri.  The  dialogue  is  here  all-important, 
the  chorus,  with  its  narratives  and  poetical  descriptions, 
taking  a subordinate  position  or  being  altogether  wanting. 

1 The  Srst  of  the  series  ot  great  actors  bearing  the  name  of  Ichikawa  Dan- 
juro  made  his  dtbut  on  the  stage  in  1673.  The  present  holder  of  that  name  is 
the  ninth  of  the  line. 


CHAPTER  IV 


POETRY  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY— 
HAIKAI,  HAIBUN,  KIOKA 

Haikai 

It  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  in  the  Tanka  of 
thirty-one  syllables  poetry  had  reached  its  extreme  limit 
of  brevity  and  conciseness.  But  a still  further  step 
remained  to  be  taken  in  this  direction.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  a kind  of  poem  known  as  Haikai,  which  con- 
sists of  seventeen  syllables  only,  made  its  appearance. 
The  Haikai  is  a Tanka  minus  the  concluding  fourteen 
syllables,  and  is  made  up  of  three  phrases  of  five, 
seven,  and  five  syllables  respectively,  as  in  the  follow- 
ing : — 

“ Finn  ike y a ! 

Kciwadzu  tobi-komu , 

Midzu  no  oto.”  A 

It  differs  from  Tanka,  however,  in  more  than  metre, 
being  much  less  choice  in  diction  and  matter  than  the 
older  kind  of  poetry.  It  admits  words  of  Chinese  deriva- 
tion and  colloquial  expressions,  and  often  deals  with 
subjects  which  the  more  fastidious  Tanka  refuses  to 
meddle  with. 

The  earliest  professor  of  this  accomplishment  was 
Yamazaki  So-kan,  a Buddhist  priest  (1445-1534).  The 

289 


290 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


verses  of  his  which  I have  met  with  have  mostly  a comic 
character.  Here  is  one  : — 

“ Even  in  the  rain , come  forth , 

O mid?iight  moon  ! 

But  first  put  on  your  hat 

A halo  is  called  in  Japanese  kasa,  which  also  means  a 
broad  hat  or  umbrella. 

Another  early  Haikai  writer  was  Arakida  Moritake 
(1472-1549).  The  following  is  from  his  pen  : — 

“ Thought  /,  the  fallen  flowers 
Are  retur?ii?ig  to  their  branch; 

But  lo  / they  were  butterflies .” 

Coming  down  to  the  Yedo  period,  the  first  name  of 
note  in  this  department  of  literature  is  that  of  Matsunaga 
Teitoku  (1562-1645).  A well-known  Haikai  of  his  is  the 
following  : — 

“ For  all  men 
' Tis  the  seed  of  siesta — 

The  autumn  moon? 

In  other  words:  The  autumn  moon  is  so  beautiful  that 
people  sit  up  half  the  night  to  gaze  on  it,  and  have  there- 
fore to  make  up  for  their  want  of  sleep  by  a siesta  on  the 
following  day. 

If  it  were  not,  however,  for  the  fame  of  MATSURA  Basho 
(1643-1694)  and  his  disciples,  it  would  hardly  be  neces- 
sary to  notice  this  kind  of  composition  at  all.  He  im- 
ported a more  serious  element,  and  greatly  refined  and 
improved  the  Haikai,  until  it  became  a formidable  rival 
to  the  Tanka.  The  latter  had  in  these  days  become  too 
exclusive  for  the  popular  taste.  The  Fujiwara  family, 
who  were  its  special  patrons,  practisers,  and  critics, 


BASHO 


29 1 

maintained  the  traditional  canons  of  the  art  in  all  their 
rigidity,  and  the  nation  was  glad  of  a new  and  more  un- 
confined field  for  its  poetical  talent.  To  write  tolerable 
Tanka  required  a technical  training,  for  which  the  many 
had  neither  time  nor  opportunity,  but  there  was  no- 
thing to  prevent  any  one  with  ordinary  cleverness  and 
a smattering  of  education  from  composing  Haikai. 
Saikaku,  an  unlearned  man,  is  said  to  have  produced 
twenty  thousand  stanzas  of  this  kind  of  poetry  during 
one  day’s  visit  to  the  shrine  of  Sumiyoshi,  and  to  have 
received  on  that  account  the  cognomen  of  “the  twenty- 
thousand  old  man.”  The  story  is  an  obvious  exaggera- 
tion, but  it  shows  what  an  easy  thing  Haikai  writing  was 
thought  to  be. 

Basho  belonged  to  a Samurai  family,  hereditary  re- 
tainers of  the  Daimio  of  Tsu,  in  the  province  of  Ise.  He 
acquitted  himself  with  credit  in  an  official  capacity  con- 
nected with  water- works  in  Yedo,  but  for  some  reason 
threw  up  his  appointment  and  entered  the  Buddhist 
priesthood.  He  built  himself  a cottage  in  the  Fukagawa 
district  .of  Yedo,  and  planted  a banana-tree  beside  the 
window.  It  grew  up  and  flourished,  and  from  it  he  took 
the  name  of  Basho  (banana),  by  which  he  is  known  to 
posterity.  He  was  a diligent  student  of  the  Zen  Buddhist 
doctrines  and  of  Taoism,  and  was  also  an  artist.  From 
time  to  time  he  took  long  excursions  to  the  remotest 
parts  of  Japan,  leaving  behind  him  traces  of  his  presence, 
which  remain  to  this  day,  in  the  shape  of  stones  inscribed 
with  poems  of  his  composition.  On  one  of  these  jour- 
neys he  took  suddenly  ill,  and  died  at  Osaka  in  the 
fifty-first  year  of  his  age. 

Shotei  Kinsui  relates  the  following  incident  which  hap- 
pened on  one  of  Basho’s  tours.  It  illustrates  the  favour 


292  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

in  which  Haikai  was  held  even  by  the  lowest  classes  of 
the  people  : — 

Once,  when  on  his  travels,  Basho  passed  through  a 
certain  rural  district,  making  Haikai  as  he  went  along. 
It  was  full  moon.  The  whole  sky  was  flooded  with  light, 
so  that  it  was  clearer  than  noonday.  It  was  so  bright 
that  Basho  did  not  think  of  seeking  an  inn,  but  continued 
his  journey.  In  a certain  village  he  came  upon  a party 
of  men  who  had  brought  out  sake  and  something  to  eat 
with  it  into  the  open  air,  and  were  enjoying  the  moon- 
light. Basho  stood  still  to  watch  them.  Presently  they 
fell  to  composing  Haikai.  Basho  was  greatly  pleased  to 
see  that  this  elegant  accomplishment  was  practised  even 
in  so  remote  a place,  and  continued  looking  on,  when  a 
silly  fellow  of  the  party  noticed  him  and  said,  “There  is 
a priest  who  looks  like  a pilgrim.  He  may  be  a begging 
priest,  but,  never  mind,  let  us  invite  him  to  join  us." 
They  all  thought  this  would  be  great  fun.  Basho  could 
not  refuse,  so  he  joined  their  circle,  taking  the  lowest 
seat.  The  silly  fellow  then  said  to  him,  “ Everybody 
here  is  bound  to  compose  something  about  the  full  moon. 
You  must  compose  something  too."  Basho  apologised. 
He  said  he  was  a humble  individual,  belonging  to  a 
country  place.  How  should  he  presume  to  contribute 
to  the  entertainment  of  the  honourable  company  ? He 
begged,  therefore,  that  they  would  kindly  excuse  him. 
“ No  ! no  !"  said  they,  “we  can’t  excuse  you.  Good  or 
bad,  you  must  compose  one  verse  at  least."  They  urged 
him  until  at  last  he  consented.  Basho  smiled,  folded  his 
arms,  and  turning  to  the  clerk  of  the  party,  said,  “ Well, 
I will  give  you  one  : — 


‘ ''T'was  the  new  moon 


BASHO 


293 


“ The  new  moon  ! What  a fool  this  priest  is  ! ” cried 
one.  “The  poem  should  be  about  the  full  moon."  “ Let 
him  go  on,”  said  another  ; “ it  will  be  all  the  more  fun.” 
So  they  gathered  round,  and  mocked  and  laughed  at 
him.  Basho  paid  no  attention,  but  went  on — 

“ ’ Twas  the  new  moon  / 

Since  then  I waited — 

Audio l to-night l 
[/  have  my  reward].” 

The  whole  partywere  amazed.  They  took  their  seats 
again  and  said,  “ Sir,  you  can  be  no  common  priest  to 
write  such  a remarkable  verse.  May  we  ask  your  name  ? ” 
Basho  smilingly  replied,  “ My  name  is  Basho,  and  I am 
travelling  about  on  a pilgrimage  for  the  sake  of  practis- 
ing the  art  of  Haikai.”  The  rustics,  in  great  excitement, 
apologised  for  their  rudeness  to  an  eminent  man  “ whose 
fragrant  name  was  known  to  all  the  world.”  They  sent 
for  their  friends  who  were  interested  in  Haikai,  and 
began  their  al fresco  feast  anew  in  his  honour. 

It  has  been  objected  that  Haikai,  even  in  the  hands  of 
an  acknowledged  master  like  Basho,  is  too  narrow  in  its 
compass  to  have  any  value  as  literature.  The  Kanga- 
kusha  Dazai  Shuntai  calls  it  a tsutanaki  mono  (a  stupid 
sort  of  thing),  and  Shotei  Kinsui  admits  that  in  the  eyes 
of  “the  superior  man”  this  is  doubtless  so.  Its  popu- 
larity, however,  is  undeniable.  The  name  of  Basho  was 
known  to  the  very  cow-herds.  He  had  ten  disciples,  and 
they  in  their  turn  had  pupils  whose  name  is  legion. 
Monthly  conferences  of  Haikai  amateurs  were  held 
regularly  both  in  the  capital  and  the  provinces,  and  there 
were  professors  who  contrived  to  make  a living  by 
practising  this  art. 

20 


294 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


It  would  be  absurd  to  put  forward  any  serious  claim 
on  behalf  of  Haikai  to  an  important  position  in  literature. 
Yet,  granted  the  form,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  more  could 
be  made  of  it  than  Basho  has  done.  It  is  not  only  the 
metre  which  distinguishes  these  tiny  effusions  from  prose. 
There  is  in  them  a perfection  of  apt  phrase,  which  often 
enshrines  minute  but  genuine  pearls  of  true  sentiment 
or  pretty  fancy.  Specks  even  of  wisdom  and  piety  may 
sometimes  be  discerned  upon  close  scrutiny.  Sugges- 
tiveness is  their  most  distinctive  quality,  as  may  be  seen 
by  the  following  : — 


“ A cloiid  of  flowers ! 

Is  the  bell  Uyeno 
Or  Asakusa  ? ” 

To  the  English  reader  this  will  appear  bald,  and  even 
meaningless.  But  to  an  inhabitant  of  Yedo  it  conveys 
more  than  meets  the  ear.  It  carries  him  away  to  his 
favourite  pleasure  resort  of  Mukojima,  with  its  long  lines 
of  cherry-trees  ranged  by  the  bank  of  the  river  Sumida, 
and  the  famous  temples  of  Uyeno  and  Asakusa  in  the 
vicinity.  He  will  have  no  difficulty  in  expanding  it  into 
something  of  this  kind  : “ The  cherry-flowers  in  Muko- 
jima are  blossoming  in  such  profusion  as  to  form  a cloud 
which  shuts  out  the  prospect.  Whether  the  bell  which 
is  sounding  from  the  distance  is  that  of  the  temple  of 
Uyeno  or  of  Asakusa  I am  unable  to  determine.” 

But  brevis  esse  laborat , obscurus  fit . A very  large  pro- 
portion of  Basho’s  Haikai  are  so  obscurely  allusive  as  to 
transcend  the  comprehension  of  the  uninitiated  foreigner. 
The  following  are  some  of  the  more  lucid.  The  same 
quality  of  suggestiveness  pervades  them  all. 


BASHO 


295 


“ An  ancient  pond  l 
With  a sound from  the  water 
Of  the  frog  as  it  plunges  inA 

“ I come  weary, 

In  search  of  an  inn — 

Ah!  these  wistaria  flowers  ! ” 

“ Ah  ! the  waving  lespedeza. 

Which  spills  not  a drop 
Of  the  clear  dew  ! ” 

“ ’ Tis  the  first  snow — 

Just  enough  to  bend 
The  gladiolus  leaves  ! ” 

“ Of  Mi  idera 

The  gate  I would  knock  at — 

The  moon  of  to-day!'' 

That  is  to  say,  How  beautiful  the  scenery  about  the 
temple  of  Mii'dera  must  look  on  a fine  moonlight  night 
like  this  ! I would  that  I were  there  to  see  it. 

“ On  a withered  branch 
A crow  is  sitting 
This  autumn  eve  A 

“ The  cry  of  the  cicada 
Gives  no  sign 
That  presently  it  will  die A 

The  following  are  by  other  writers  : — 

11 'Tis  the  cuckoo — 

Listen  well ! 

How  much  soever  gods  ye  be  A 

u 'Tis  the  first  snow , 

Yet  some  one  is  indoors — 

Who  can  it  be  ? ” 


“ The  club-shaker  s 
Rising  and  falling  in  the  water 
Until  it  becomes  a musquitoA 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


296 

The  water-grub,  which  subsequently  becomes  a mus- 
quito,  moves  about  by  the  rapid  vibration  of  its  tail. 
Hence  the  name  “ club-shaker."  To  the  Japanese  it  is 
an  emblem  of  the  mischievous  boy  who  is  destined  to 
develop  into  a wicked  man. 

“ O ye  fallen  leaves  ! 

There  are  far  more  oj  you 

Than  ever  I saw  growing  on  the  trees  ! ” 

“Alas!  the  width  of  this  musquito-net 
Which  meets  my  eye  when  I wake 
And  when  1 lie  down." 

The  following  characteristic  specimen  of  this  kind  of 
poetry  is  quoted  in  Mr.  B.  H.  Chamberlain's  Handbook 
of  Colloquial  Japanese : — 

t(  A sagao  ni 

Tsurube  tor  arete , 

Morai-mizu ! ” 

Literally,  “ Having  had  my  well-bucket  taken  away  by 
the  convolvuli, — gift-water!"  The  meaning,  as  Mr. 

Chamberlain  not  unnecessarily  explains,  is  this : “ The 
poetess  Chiyo,  having  gone  to  her  well  one  morning  to 
draw  water,  found  that  some  tendrils  of  the  convolvulus 
had  twined  themselves  around  the  rope.  As  a poetess 
and  a woman  of  taste,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
disturb  the  dainty  blossoms.  So,  leaving  her  own  well 
to  the  convolvuli,  she  went  and  begged  water  of  a 
neighbour.  A pretty  little  vignette  surely,  and  expressed 
in  five  words." 

Haibun 

The  Haibun  is  a kind  of  prose  composition  which 
may  be  conveniently  mentioned  here,  as  it  is  a sort  of 


HAIBUN 


297 


satellite  of  the  Haikai,  and  aims  at  the  same  conciseness 
and  suggestiveness.  The  most  noted  writer  of  Haibun  is 
YOKOI  Yayu  (1703-1783),  a high  official  of  Nagoya,  in 
Owari.  He  is  the  author  of  the  much  admired  apologue 
which  follows  : — 

uAn  earthen  vessel,  whether  it  be  square  or  round, 
strives  to  adapt  to  its  own  form  the  thing  which  it 
contains  : a bag  does  not  insist  on  preserving  its  own 
shape,  but  conforms  itself  to  that  which  is  put  into  it. 
Full,  it  reaches  above  men’s  shoulders  ; empty,  it  is  folded 
up  and  hidden  in  the  bosom.  How  the  cloth  bag  which 
knows  the  freedom  of  fulness  and  emptiness  must  laugh 
at  the  world  contained  within  the  jar  ! 

O thou  bag 

Of  moo?i  and  flowers 

Whose  form  is  ever  changing ! ” 

In  other  words  : How  much  better  it  is  to  yield  our 
hearts  to  the  manifold  influences  of  external  nature,  like 
the  moon  and  flowers,  which  are  always  changing  their 
aspect  with  the  weather  and  the  season,  than,  self-con- 
centrated, to  try  to  make  everything  conform  to  one's 
own  narrow  standard  ! 


Kioka 

Kioka  (literally  “ mad  poetry")  is  a comic  and  vulgar 
variety  of  Tanka.  There  is  here  an  absolute  freedom 
both  in  respect  to  language  and  choice  of  subject.  The 
Kioka  must  be  funny,  that  is  all.  In  this  kind  of  poetry, 
of  which  an  immense  quantity  was  produced  during  the 
Yedo  period,  the  punning  propensity  of  the  Japanese  has 
been  allowed  full  scope.  Share  (pronounced  “sharry") 
reigns  there  supreme.  Share  is  one  of  those  numerous 


298  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Japanese  words  for  which  there  is  no  exact  English 
equivalent.  It  may  be  translated  “ wit,”  but  in  order  to 
express  its  full  meaning  a spice  of  what  is  comprehended 
under  the  terms  gaiety,  esprit,  playful  fancy,  stylishness, 
must  be  added.  Japanese  wit,  like  that  of  other  countries, 
has  an  element  which  defies  analysis  or  classification. 
But  the  jeu- de-mots  predominates.  Share  infests  not 
only  the  Kioka,  but  the  drama  and  fiction,  to  an  extent 
well-nigh  intolerable  to  European  tastes.  Dr.  Florenz, 
Professor  of  Philology  in  the  Imperial  University  of 
Tokio,  has  treated  this  subject  with  truly  German  con- 
scientiousness and  erudition  in  a paper  read  before  the 
German  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan  in  July  1892.  Follow- 
ing a native  investigator  named  Tsuchiko  Kaneshiro, 
he  classifies  share  under  two  heads  with  divisions  and 
subdivisions,  making  in  all  twenty  different  kinds.  Our 
old  enemy  the  pivot-word  is  here,  also  the  pillow-word, 
and  several  varieties  of  the  ordinary  pun,  with  various 
fearfully  complicated  acrobatic  contortions  of  speech 
which  I shall  not  attempt  to  describe.  Even  the  reader 
who  has  a competent  knowledge  of  the  language  requires 
a special  study  to  understand  and  appreciate  them.  He 
follows  these  far-eastern  waggeries  with  a halting  step, 
and  frequently  finds  himself  in  the  position  of  the 
\ Scotchman  who  was  heard  suddenly  to  burst  into 
laughter  at  a joke  which  had  been  made  half-an-hour 
before.  Nothing  testifies  more  strikingly  to  the  nimble- 
ness of  the  Japanese  apprehension  than  their  delight  in 
these  “ Taschenspielerkunstchen  des  sprachlichen  Aus- 
drucks”  (linguistic  prestidigitations),  as  Dr.  Florenz  has 
aptly  called  them,  whether  in  conversation  or  in  books. 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  such  an  excessive  fondness 
for  mere  verbal  wit  does  not  amount  to  a disease,  and 


MODERN  LYRICS 


299 

whether  it  has  not  constituted  a serious  obstacle  to  the 
development  of  higher  qualities  in  their  literature. 

In  quite  recent  times  a popular  kind  of  lyrical  poetry 
has  come  into  fashion  which  somewhat  resembles  the 
ancient  Naga-uta  in  form.  The  following  may  serve  as  a 
specimen  : — 

“ Vain  has  been  the  dream 
In  which  I thought  that  we  met ; 

Awake , I find  myself  again 
In  the  darkness 
Of  the  wretched  reality. 

Whether  I try  to  hope 
Or  give  way  to  gloomy  thought \ 

Truly  for  my  heart 
There  is  no  relief 

If  this  is  such  a miserable  world  that  I may  not  meet  thee , 

Oh  / let  me  take  up  my  abode 
Deep  in  the  far  mountains , 

And  deeper  still 
In  their  furthest  depths , 

Where , careless  of  men's  gazey 
I may  think  of  my  love!' 


CHAPTER  V 


EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY 

Kangakusha — Fiction — Jisho  and  Kiseki — Jitsuroku- 
mono — Wasobioye— Popular  Drama 

Kangakusha 

The  pursuit  of  Chinese  studies  reached  its  height  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  In  its  early  years  Hakuseki,  Kiuso, 
and  other  distinguished  men  of  letters  still  lived  and 
wrote.  They  had  numerous  successors,  who  continued 
to  bring  out  volume  after  volume  of  commentaries  on 
the  Chinese  classics,  works  on  government,  the  art  of 
war,  history,  finance  and  political  economy,  ethics, 
metaphysics  and  religion,  under  which  the  shelves  of 
Japanese  libraries  are  groaning  at  this  day.  But,  as  the 
Heike  Monogatari  says,  ° that  which  flourishes  must 
also  decay.”  After  the  philosophers  came  the  sophists. 
Japan  had  little  more  to  learn  from  the  Chu-Hi  philo- 
sophy, and  the  renewed  study  of  the  ancient  Chinese 
literature  which  it  had  promoted.  The  impulse  derived 
from  these  sources  had  spent  its  force,  though  it  con- 
tinued to  be  indirectly  felt  in  other  departments  of 
literature  than  the  writings  of  the  Kangakusha. 

In  the  eighteenth  century  the  Chu-Hi  philosophy  was 
no  longer  so  universally  recognised  as  the  unquestioned 

300 


KANGAKUSHA 


301 


standard  of  doctrine.  Even  in  the  preceding  century 
there  had  been  heretics,  vigorously  denounced  by  Kiuso, 
who  followed  the  teachings  of  Wang  Yangming,1  a 
Chinese  thinker  who  “ endeavoured  to  substitute  an 
idealistic  intuitionalism  for  the  scientific  philosophy  of 
Chu-Hi.”  Another  heretic  was  Ito  Jinsai  (1627-1705),  who 
was  one  of  the  founders  of  a new  sect  known  as  the 
Kogakusha,  which  set  aside  Chu-Hi’s  exposition  of  the 
Chinese  classics,  and  sought  to  base  a system  of  philo- 
sophy on  the  direct  study  of  the  works  of  Confucius. 
His  son  Togai  (1670-1736),  a distinguished  scholar,  fol- 
lowed in  the  same  track  as  well  as  the  still  more  eminent 
Ogiu  Sorai  (1666-1728).  Togai  was  the  author  of  Yuken 
Shdroku  and  Hyosokn-dan,  collections  of  miscellaneous 
writings  in  the  Japanese  language  ; and  Sorai  is  remem- 
bered for  his  Seidan  (“Talk  on  Government’')  and  Naru- 
beshi , both  of  which  are  in  Japanese.  Dazai  Shuntai,  also 
a heretical  philosopher,  was  the  author  of  a work  on 
finance  called  Keizairoku , and  of  a volume  of  desultory 
essays,  in  a plain,  straightforward  style,  entitled  Dokugo 
(“Soliloquy”),  which  is  much  esteemed.  All  these  were 
voluminous  writers  in  the  Chinese  language. 

Meanwhile  the  Chu-Hi  or  orthodox  school  of  philosophy 
was  not  without  its  champions,  and  a war  of  contending 
sects  arose  whose  wrangles  disturbed  Japan  until  the  end 
of  the  century.  The  intolerance  of  all  classes  of  Kanga- 
kusha  for  Buddhism,  and  the  aversion  and  contempt  of 
the  Wagakusha  (or  students  of  the  native  learning  and 
religion)  for  Chinese  scholars  and  Buddhists  alike,  helped 
to  increase  the  turmoil  and  confusion.  Towards  the  end 

1 See  Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan , vol.  xx.  p.  12  ; also 
Dr.  Knox’s  translation  of  Nakai  Tojiu’s  Okina  Mondo,  in  vol.  ii.  of  the 
Chrysanthemum. 


302 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


of  the  century  this  state  of  things  became  so  unbear- 
able that  the  reigning  Shogun,  Iyenari,  was  driven  to 
apply  a partial  remedy.  He  prohibited  all  philosophical 
teaching  whatever  other  than  that  of  Chu-Hi  and  his 
adherents. 

The  Kangakusha,  by  their  excesses  and  extravagances, 
were  themselves  responsible  for  the  decay  of  their  in- 
fluence. Their  admiration  for  things  Chinese  passed  all 
reasonable  bounds.  Sorai,  for  example,  spoke  of  himself 
as  an  “ Eastern  barbarian/'  and  Chinese  standards  were 
blindly  accepted  as  unquestionable  rules  of  conduct  both 
in  private  and  public  matters. 

In  the  world  of  literature  the  most  noticeable  result  of 
the  Kangakusha  craze  (for  such  it  ultimately  became) 
was  the  neglect  of  Japanese  composition.  For  all 
serious  writings  Chinese  was  preferred,  and  it  was  only 
for  their  lighter  and  more  carelessly  written  works  that 
these  scholars  condescended  to  use  their  own  language. 
The  native  style  was  for  a long  time  left  mainly  to  the 
writers  of  fiction. 


JlSHO  AND  KlSEKI 

At  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  was 
at  Kioto  a bookseller  and  publisher  whose  place  of  busi- 
ness was  known  as  the  Hachimonjiya  or  u Figure-of- 
eight-house."  The  principal  of  this  establishment  was 
also  an  author,  and  in  that  capacity  signed  himself 
Jisho  (spontaneous  laughter).  Associated  with  him 
was  a writer  who  styled  himself  Kiseki.  Kiseki  was  a 
broken-down  tradesman  of  Kioto,  the  heir  of  a long 
line  of  shopkeepers  who  had  amassed  wealth  by  the  sale 
of  a kind  of  sweetmeat  or  cake.  Such  part  of  their  sub- 
stance as  had  descended  to  him  he  wasted  in  riotous 


303 


J1SHO  AND  KISEKI 

living,  and  was  at  last  compelled  to  resort  to  authorship 
for  a subsistence.  At  first  Kiseki  allowed  his  works  to 
be  published  in  Jisho's  name;  but  as  their  popularity 
became  established,  he  insisted  on  his  own  name  also 
appearing  on  the  title-page.  Ultimately  author  and 
publisher  quarrelled,  and  Kiseki  opened  an  independent 
establishment,  where  a good  number  of  his  works  were 
brought  out.  Some  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  Jisho  never 
wrote  anything,  but  that  the  books  which  bear  his  signa- 
ture were  in  all  cases  really  the  work  of  Kiseki  or  other 
needy  authors,  whom  he  paid  for  their  services.  What- 
ever may  have  been  the  relations  between  them,  the  two 
names  Jisho  and  Kiseki  are  constantly  associated  by  the 
Japanese,  just  as  we  speak  of  Erckmann-Chatrian  or 
Besant  and  Rice. 

Kiseki  died  about  1736,  in  his  seventieth  year,  and 
Jisho  in  1745,  at  an  advanced  age.  In  a preface  to  his 
last  published  work,  the  latter  commends  to  the  favour 
of  the  public  his  son  Kisho  and  his  grandson  Zuisho,  who 
were  authors  of  writings  of  a similar  character  to  those 
for  which  the  Hachimonjiya  had  acquired  its  reputa- 
tion. One  of  these,  printed  in  1746,  contains  a catalogue 
of  one  hundred  and  three  publications  of  this  notorious 
press.  The  names  of  a considerable  proportion  are 
sufficiently  indicative  of  their  character.  They  are  por- 
nographic novels,  tales,  or  sketches.  Even  when  the 
title  is  a harmless  one,  the  reader  after  a few  pages  is 
pretty  sure  to  find  himself  introduced  to  one  of  the 
Kuruwa  or  brothel-quarters  of  Kioto  or  elsewhere,  and 
the  manners  and  customs  of  these  places  furnish  a large 
part  of  the  subject-matter. 

There  is  a reason,  if  not  an  excuse,  for  the  prevailing 
choice  of  this  unsavoury  topic  by  Japanese  writers  of 


304 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


fiction  during  the  Yedo  period.  There  was  no  social 
intercourse  to  speak  of  between  men  and  women  of  the 
better  class.  Whenever  reasons  of  economy  did  not 
stand  in  the  way,  the  women  lived  a very  secluded  life, 
seeing  no  men  but  their  near  relations.  Their  marriages 
were  arranged  for  them,  and  romantic  attachments  were 
extremely  exceptional.  The  manners  and  customs  of 
the  respectable  classes  of  society  were  therefore  not  a 
promising  field  for  the  writer  of  fiction.  He  preferred 
the  freer  atmosphere  of  the  Kuruwa,  to  which  pretty 
gardens  and  handsome  buildings,  with  the  showy  educa- 
tion and  gay  costumes  of  their  inmates,  lent  a superficial 
appearance  of  elegance  and  refinement.  The  element  of 
romance  in  the  lives  of  these  women  was  perhaps  small, 
but  it  existed,  and  it  was  far  more  natural  to  credit  them 
with  romantic  adventures  and  passions  than  their  more 
immaculate  sisters.  And  if  the  novelist’s  description  of 
these  places  as  the  home  of  wit  and  jollity,  and  the 
natural  resort  of  all  young  men  of  spirit  and  fashion, 
had  a tendency  to  corrupt  public  morals,  it  is  also  to 
be  remembered  that  the  class  of  readers  whom  he 
addressed  were  not  particular  in  these  matters.  It  was 
a case  of  populus  vult  corrumpi , et  corrumpitur . 

The  most  famous  of  the  Hachimonjiya  publications  is 
a work  entitled  Keisei  Kintanki  (1711).  Jisho’s  name 
appears  on  the  title-page,  but  it  is  probably  one  of  those 
which  were  really  written  by  Kiseki.  It  is  not  a novel, 
but  a debate  on  a subject  of  which  I must  renounce  the 
attempt  to  give  an  idea.  In  so  far  as  mere  words  go, 
there  are  more  objectionable  works,  but  the  whole  atti- 
tude 'of  the  author  is  profoundly  immoral.  What  is 
specially  unpardonable  is  his  irreverent  use  of  terms 
borrowed  from  the  Buddhist  religious  vocabulary,  and 


JISHO  AND  K1SEKI  305 

the  scandalous  way  in  which  here  and  elsewhere  the 
great  names  of  Japanese  history  are  dragged  by  him 
through  the  mire.  Its  humour,  however,  is  undeniable. 

A somewhat  less  objectionable  work  is  the  Oyaji  Katagi 
or  “ Types  of  Elderly  Men,"  by  Jisho  and  Kiseki.  It  is 
a series  of  racy,  lifelike  sketches  of  “ The  Gourmand," 
“The  Devotee,"  “The  Valetudinarian,"  “The  Patron  of 
Wrestlers,"  with  others  which  need  not  be  specified. 

This  was  followed  by  a number  of  similar  works,  such 
as  Musuko  Katagi  (“Types  of  Youths"),  Tedai  Katagi 
(“Types  of  Merchants'  Assistants"),  Musume  Katagi 
(“Types  of  Girlhood").  The  last-named  work  has  a 
preface,  which  makes  what  I have  no  doubt  is  a sincere 
profession  of  the  most  unexceptionable  moral  aims. 

The  Kokusenya  Minclio  Taiheiki , by  Kiseki,  is  a version, 
with  variations,  of  Chikamatsu’s  well-known  play.  The 
practice  of  novelising  dramas  is  more  common  in  Japan 
than  the  reverse  process.  As  has  been  already  explained, 
there  is  far  less  difference  between  these  two  forms  of 
composition  than  in  European  literature. 

The  Furiu  Guinpai  Uchiwa  is  a romance  of  the  olden 
time,  related  in  the  Hachimonjiya  manner.  Other 
romances  are  the  Shonin  Gumpai  Uchiwa  (Kiseki,  N.  D.), 
Furiu  Saikai  Suzuri , and  Furiu  Tokai  Suztiri. 

It  is  not  easy  to  discover  in  the  works  of  these  writers 
passages  which  are  suitable  for  quotation  in  these  pages. 
The  following  is  an  outline  of  a story  from  the  Zen-aku 
Mimochi  Ogiy  or  “Good  and  Evil  Conduct  Fan,"  a series 
of  moral  tales,  signed  by  Jisho  and  Kiseki: — 

“ Piety  has  its  Reward  " 

There  was  once  an  ink-maker  of  Nara,  named  Kuro- 
suke  (Blackie),  tolerably  well  off,  but  not  rich.  He  was 


3 06  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

a very  pious  man,  and  went  every  day  td  the  shrine  of 
Kasuga,  near  that  city,  to  pay  his  devotions.  One  day, 
as  he  went  to  make  his  usual  morning  prayer,  he  met  a 
white-haired  man  in  the  garb  of  a Shinto  priest,  who  told 
him  that  on  his  way  home  he  would  find  a reward  of  his 
piety  at  the  great  Torii  (Shinto  archway)  leading  to  the 
shrine/  He  accordingly  found  there  a purse  of  fifty 
gold  kobans.  He  took  it  home,  intending  to  advertise 
it,  and  so  give  the  loser  an  opportunity  of  making  a 
claim.  Meanwhile  Kurosuke  heard  a sound  of  great 
lamentation  which  proceeded  from  the  house  of  a neigh- 
bour. It  appeared,  on  inquiry,  that  the  father  of  the 
family  had  gone  security  for  a friend  who  had  absconded, 
leaving  him  liable  for  a sum  of  one  hundred  rios.  It  was 
totally  impossible  for  him  to  raise  this  amount.  The 
creditor  offered  to  take  thirty,  but  even  this  sum  was 
far  beyond  his  means.  His  daughter  (the  experienced 
reader  of  Japanese  novels  knows  what  is  coming)  then 
offered  to  let  herself  be  sold  to  a Kuruwa  in  order  to 
provide  the  needful  money,  and  an  establishment  of  this 
kind,  far  away  in  Chikuzen,  was  selected,  so  as  to  lessen 
the  family  disgrace  as  much  as  possible.  It  was  the 
lamentation  at  her  approaching  departure  which  had 
drawn  Kurosuke’s  attention.  He  concluded  that  with 
the  gift  of  the  gods  he  could  not  do  better  than  release 
this  unhappy  household  from  their  difficulty.  So  he 
paid  the  thirty  rios,  and  returning  home,  deposited  the 
balance  of  the  money  in  the  domestic  shrine  and  went 
about  his  business.  Now  his  wife,  of  whom  he  had  made 
a confidante,  was  a foolish  woman.  She  took  it  into 
her  head  that  her  husband  had  stolen  the  money.  Full 
of  this  idea,  she  must  needs  let  their  landlord  know  of 
her  suspicions.  And  so  from  one  to  another  the  matter 


JISHO  AND  KISEKI 


3°  7 


became  public  property.  Kurosuke  was  arrested,  and 
although  he  told  the  true  story  over  and  over  again, 
nobody  believed  him.  The  authorities  directed  that  he 
should  be  detained  in  custody  until  the  loser  of  the 
money  should  appear  to  corroborate  his  statement.  At 
last  the  original  owner  came  forward.  She  was  a young 
widow  from  a distance,  who  had  meant  it  for  the  erection 
of  a stone  lantern  in  front  of  the  shrine,  in  memory  of 
her  deceased  husband,  and  on  her  relating  the  circum- 
stances of  its  loss,  Kurosuke  was  at  once  released.  He 
obtained  the  magistrate's  permission  to  divorce  his  wife 
for  her  treacherous  conduct,  and  married  the  widow. 
They  adopted  the  young  girl  who  h?d  been  saved  from  a 
life  of  shame,  and  were  happy  and  prosperous  ever  after, 
leaving  children  and  grandchildren  who  handed  down 
their  name.  This  true  story  is  told  to  this  day  as  an 
example  of  the  saying  that  “ piety  has  its  reward." 

The  Hachimonjiya  continued  its  activity  until  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century.  Meanwhile  other  houses  had 
sprung  up,  first  at  Kioto  and  subsequently  at  Yedo,  to 
supply  the  public  demand  for  literature  of  this  kind. 
Their  publications,  known  as  share-bon , or  witty  books, 
were  of  so  outrageous  a character  that  the  Government 
at  last  (in  1791)  interfered,  and  visited  both  authors  and 
publishers  with  severe  but  «ot  unmerited  punishment. 
Non  ragioniam  di  lor . 

With  all  their  faults,  Jisho  and  Kiseki  must  be  pro- 
nounced the  truest  representatives  for  their  time  of  the 
characteristic  qualities  of  the  Japanese  national  genius. 
They  fill  an  important  place  in  the  history  of  Japanese 
literature,  continuing  the  tradition  of  Saikaku  by  their 
graphic  and  humorous  descriptions  of  real  life  and 
manners,  while  they  far  excelled  him  in  culture  and 


3°8 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


literary  ability.  They  have  been  called  realistic  writers 
by  some  native  critics,  and  when  we  think  of  the  extrava- 
gant and  unreal  romances  so  much  in  vogue  at  a later 
period,  they  must  be  admitted  to  have  considerable  claim 
to  the  title.  But  in  fidelity  to  the  facts  of  everyday  life 
and  actual  human  nature,  unsophisticated  by  superfine 
Chinese  ethical  notions,  they  fall  short  of  some  of  their 
successors.  Their  works  are  by  no  means  uniform  in 
this  respect,  and  some  of  them  contain  a large  element 
of  romance. 

“ J ITSUROKU-MONO" 

In  the  Heike  Monogatari  and  Taiheiki  we  have  seen 
examples  of  what  may  be  called  “ history  paraphrased." 
The  authors  of  similar  works  in  the  eighteenth  century 
went  a step  further.  They  treated  real  personages  and 
events  with  still  greater  freedom,  and  thus  produced 
what,  notwithstanding  the  name  J itsuroku-mono  (“True 
Record"),  was  in  reality  closely  akin  to  the  historical  novel. 
Their  favourite  themes  are  battles  and  vendettas,  warlike 
exploits,  and  the  disorders  which  from  time  to  time  dis- 
turbed the  peace  of  the  Daimios’  Governments.  Their 
style  is  for  the  most  part  plain  and  unadorned,  but  not 
without  a certain  naive  charm,  and  their  works  are  still 
popular,  although  the  authors’  names  have  long  been 
forgotten. 

Among  the  principal  works  of  this  kind  may  be  men- 
tioned the  Okubo  Musas  hi  Yoroi}  Onna  Taiheikiy  Mikawa 
Go  Fudoki,  Taikdkiy  and  the  Oka  Seidan.  The  Taikokiy 
written  in  the  early  years  of  this  century,  relates  the 
history  of  the  famous  soldier  and  statesman  Hideyoshi  in 
a highly  imaginative  fashion  and  at  enormous  length. 
It  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  earlier  Taikoki  already 


JITSUROKU-MONO  309  • 

noticed,  and  from  subsequent  works  with  the  same  or 
similar  titles. 

An  even  more  popular  work  was  the  Oka  Seidan , which 
purports  to  be  a collection  of  causes  celebres  tried  by  a 
judge  named  Oka  Echizen  no  Kami,  famous  for  his 
impartiality  and  acumen.  He  was  Machibugio  or  civil 
governor  of  Yedo,  a post  which  carried  with  it  high  judi- 
cial powers,  under  the  Shogun  Yoshimune,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  Oka  Seidan  consists  of  forty-three  stories,  some 
of  which  are  founded  on  fact,  though  the  hand  of  the 
romancist  is  readily  distinguishable  in  all.  It  may  be 
cordially  recommended  to  European  students  for  its 
simple,  unpretentious  style,  which  is  entirely  free  from 
the  irritating  tricks  of  the  writers  of  superfine  Japanese. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  stories  related  in  this  bulky 
volume  is  the  first.  It  is  an  account  of  an  attempt  by  a 
scoundrelly  young  Buddhist  priest,  named  Tenichi  Bo, 
to  pass  himself  off  on  the  Shogun  1 as  a son  of  his  by  a 
woman  whom  he  had  known  in  his  youth.  In  order  to 
carry  out  this  design,  he  and  his  accomplices  commit  some 
forty  murders  and  other  crimes.  By  means  which  recall 
the  devices  of  a famous  claimant  of  our  own  day,  they 
persuade  the  merchants  of  Osaka  and  Kioto  to  advance 
them  large  sums  of  money  wherewith  to  furnish  Tenichi 
Bo  with  an  outfit  suitable  to  his  supposed  station.  He 
then  proceeds  to  Yedo  with  a train  of  several  hundred 
followers,  and  takes  up  his  residence  there  in  a handsome 
yashikiy  built  specially  for  his  reception  from  the  funds 
supplied  by  his  deluded  adherents.  The  Shogun  is 
strongly  inclined  to  recognise  him;  but  Judge  Oka,  at 
the  imminent  risk  of  receiving  an  invitation  to  commit 

1 Arai  Hakuseki’s  patron,  Yoshimune. 


• 3io  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

hara-kiri , urges  caution.  He  ultimately  succeeds  in  trac- 
ing out,  by  his  detectives,  the  whole  history  of  Tenichi 
Bo’s  criminal  career,  and  the  story  ends  dramatically  with 
the  arrest,  exposure,  and  execution  of  the  chief  culprits. 
It  is  true  in  all  its  more  important  features. 

The  J itsuroku-mono  were  suppressed  by  the  Shogun’s 
Government  in  1804,  as  containing  matter  injurious  to 
the  fame  of  Iyeyasu,  the  deified  founder  of  the  dynasty, 
and  his  lieutenants.  At  the  same  time  all  mention  of 
real  personages  belonging  to  the  military  caste  who  lived 
after  1573  was  prohibited  in  works  of  fiction.  The  J itsu- 
roku-mono continued,  however,  to  be  read  in  manuscripts, 
which  formed  a substantial  part  of  the  stock  of  the  circu- 
lating libraries. 


“Wasobioye”  (1774) 

Wasobioye  is  a sort  of  Japanese  Gulliver.  The  hero 
drifts  out  to  sea  from  the  port  of  Nagasaki  in  a fishing- 
boat,  and  reaches  the  Land  of  Perennial  Youth  and  Life, 
the  Land  of  Endless  Plenty,  the  Land  of  Shams,  and 
finally  the  Land  of  Giants,  meeting  with  numerous 
adventures,  which  are  related  with  no  little  humour. 
This  work  has  not  been  treated  as  a very  important  con- 
tribution to  Japanese  literature.  Mr.  Chamberlain,  who 
has  translated  the  best  part  of  it  for  the  Transactions  of 
the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan  p speaks  of  it  as  of  no  par- 
ticular importance  or  celebrity,  and  the  native  writers  of 
literary  history  take  no  notice  of  it  whatever.  It  appears 
to  me  that  it  is  deserving  of  a more  favourable  judgment, 
and  I confess  that  I prefer  it  to  the  more  celebrated  work 
suggested  by  it,  namely,  the  Musobioye  of  Bakin.  I tran- 


1 Vol.  vii.  (1879). 


WAS0BIOYE 


3 1 1 

scribe  from  Mr.  Chamberlain's  version  a passage  which 
will  give  some  idea  of  its  character  : — 

"Now  you  must  know  that,  as  in  this  country  there 
were  no  such  phenomena  as  death  and  disease,  none  of 
the  people  knew  what  death  or  disease  felt  like,  though 
they  were  much  given  to  speculating  on  the  subject. 
Some  few  volumes  of  the  Buddhist  Scriptures  that  had 
been  brought  over  in  ancient  times  from  India  and  China, 
described  heaven  in  such  glowing  terms  that  they  were 
filled  with  quite  a desperate  admiration  for  death,  and 
distaste  for  their  own  never-ending  existence,  so  much  so 
that  when,  as  a rare  exception,  any  of  their  countrymen 
chanced  to  die,  he  was  envied  in  the  same  manner  as  in 
Japan  would  be  envied  one  who  should  have  obtained 
immortality.  They  studied  the  1 art  of  death ' as  it  were 
the  art  of  magic,  retiring  to  mountain  districts  and 
secluded  valleys,  where  they  subjected  themselves  to  all 
manner  of  ascetic  privations,  which,  however,  rarely 
obtained  for  them  the  desired  effect.  In  the  matter  of 
food,  all  such  articles  as  ginseng,  wild  potatoes,  eels,  wild 
duck,  &c.,  which  increase  the  action  of  the  kidneys,  and 
strengthen  the  spleen  and  stomach,  were  feared  and 
avoided  as  being  poisonously  life-giving ; whereas  what 
people  of  rank  and  consideration  highly  prized  and  de- 
lighted in  were  such  viands  as  were  likely  to  cause  the 
eater's  death.  Thus  mermaids  were  unusually  cheap 
and  plentiful — plentiful  as  cuttle-fish  on  the  coast  of 
Idzumi — and  you  might  see  slices  of  them  piled  up  on 
dishes,  as  well  as  whole  ones  hanging  from  the  eaves  of 
every  cook-shop.  But  nobody  who  was  anybody  would 
touch  with  the  tips  of  his  fingers  a fish  so  apt  to  poison 
you  to  life,  and  it  was  accordingly  left  to  the  lowest 
of  the  populace.  The  globe-fish  was  much  esteemed, 


3*2 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


commanding  a high  price,  and  a favourite  dish  to  set 
before  the  most  honoured  guests  was  a broth  made  of 
this  fish  powdered  over  with  soot.  These  would  not,  of 
course,  in  this  Land  of  Perennial  Youth  and  Life,  actually 
kill  a man.  But  still  the  poison  would  have  a certain 
slight  effect,  making  him  feel  giddy  for  half-an-hour  or 
so,  and  giving  him  sensations  as  pleasurable  as  that  experi- 
enced by  us  Japanese  after  drinking  rice-beer.  1 Ah/  he 
would  exclaim,  ‘ this  is  what  death  must  feel  like  ! ’ and  he 
would  clap  his  hands  and  dance  and  sing,  and  believe 
himself  to  have  attained  the  very  acme  of  felicity.  If,  in 
trying  to  say  something  flattering  about  a friend’s  child, 
a caller  were  to  remark  on  its  apparent  healthiness,  both 
father  and  mother  would  remember  his  words  with  un- 
easiness; whereas,  if  he  should  say,  ‘ The  little  thing 
doesn’t  look  as  if  it  would  live  long/  he  would  give  the 
parents  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  they  would  reply, 
1 Ah,  if  only  what  you  say  may  come  true  !"' 

Popular  Drama 

The  eighteenth  century  was  the  flourishing  period  of 
the  Japanese  popular  drama.  Nearly  everything  of  note 
in  this  department  of  literature  belongs  to  it.  Chika- 
matsu,  it  is  true,  began  his  career  somewhat  earlier,  but 
all  his  principal  works  date  after  1700.  Since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  nineteenth  century,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
writing  of  Joruri  has  almost  altogether  ceased. 

Chikamatsu  was  succeeded  by  Takeda  Idzumo,  who 
wrote  about  the  middle  of  the  century.  Most,  however, 
of  the  plays  commonly  attributed  to  him  were  composed 
in  collaboration  with  other  writers,  some  being  the  work 
of  as  many  as  five  or  six  authors.  It  seems  to  have  been 
the  usual  practice  at  this  time  for  playwrights  to  work 


TAKEDA  IDZUMO 


313 


together  in  this  way.  A committee  having  been  formed, 
the  proceedings  began  by  the  president  giving  out  a sub- 
ject. At  a subsequent  meeting  each  member  offered  his 
suggestions  as  to  its  treatment,  and  the  work  of  com- 
position went  on  in  concert,  nothing  being  accepted  until 
it  met  with  the  general  approval. 

One  of  the  best  known  works  of  Idzumo  is  a historical 
play  of  five  acts,  founded  on  the  fortunes  of  Sugawara 
Michizane,  a celebrated  statesman  of  the  ninth  century, 
who  was  deified  after  his  death  as  Temman  Tenjin,  and 
is  now  worshipped  as  the  god  presiding  over  penman- 
ship. It  is  entitled  Sugawara  denjiu  tenarai  no  Kagami 
or  “ Mirror  (that  is,  History)  of  the  Transmission  of  the 
Art  of  Calligraphy  by  Sugawara  ” (1746).  The  names  of 
four  authors  appear  on  the  title-page. 

A still  more  famous  drama  by  Idzumo  and  two  col- 
laborators is  the  Chiushingura 1 (1748)  or  “ Magazine  of 
Faithful  Retainers/’  Chikamatsu’s  five-act  arrangement 
was  at  this  time  no  longer  adhered  to,  and  the  Chiushin- 
gura is  in  eleven  acts  or  scenes.  It  is  a version  of  the 
favourite  story  of  the  forty-seven  Ronins.  There  are  no 
fewer  than  forty  or  fifty  plays  on  this  subject,  some  of  them, 
however,  being  mere  adaptations  of  previous  works. 

In  their  general  character,  Idzumo's  plays  greatly 
resemble  those  of  his  predecessor.  There  is  the  same 
overcrowding  of  exciting  incidents,  the  same  mixture  of 
comedy  and  tragedy,  and  the  same  desire  to  shock  the 
audience  with  brutal  murders  and  other  enormities 
enacted  on  the  stage,  and  to  pander  to  their  lewder 
tastes.  But  although  it  is  heresy  to  say  so,  I confess  to 
a preference  to  Idzumo  over  his  more  famous  master. 

1 Translated  into  English  by  Mr.  F.  V.  Dickins,  under  the  title  Chiushin * 
gura  ; or  the  Loyal  League  ; a Japanese  Romance. 


3i4 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


The  improbabilities  are  not  quite  so  startling,  the  per- 
sonages are  several  degrees  nearer  to  ordinary  humanity, 
and  their  sentiments  are  somewhat  less  unnatural  and 
less  stilted  in  their  expression.  The  poetical  element  is, 
perhaps,  thinner,  but  that,  to  the  European  reader  at  least, 
is  a doubtful  disadvantage. 

Idzumo  died  in  1756.  He  waa  followed  as  playwright 
for  the  Takemoto  theatre  by  Chikamatsu  Hanni,  who 
did  his  best  to  attract  audiences  by  startling  novelties 
and  spectacular  effect.  He  reduced  the  share  given  to 
poetical  narrative,  and  depended  more  on  dialogue.  But 
in  his  hands  the  Joruri  declined  sensibly.  The  public 
got  tired  of  it,  the  Takemoto  Za  went  into  bankruptcy, 
and  after  the  end  of  the  century  this  kind  of  drama 
became  practically  extinct. 


CHAPTER  VI 


EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY  ( Continued ) 

Wagakusha  (Students  of  Japanese  Antiquity) 

The  Kangakusha's  extravagant  admiration  for  every- 
thing Chinese,  and  their  persistent  and  largely  successful 
endeavours  to  mould  the  thoughts  and  institutions  of 
Japan  upon  Chinese  models,  were  followed  by  an  inevi- 
table reaction  in  favour  of  a more  genuinely  national 
development.  This  movement,  which  has  been  fully 
described  by  Sir  E.  Satow  in  the  Ti'ansactions  of  the 
Asiatic  Society  of  Japan  (1875),  forms  one  of  the  most 
interesting  features  of  recent  Japanese  literature. 

It  began  with  the  renewed  study  of  the  old  literary 
monuments  of  Japan,  which  for  centuries  had  been  so 
much  neglected  that  the  very  language  in  which  they  are 
written  was  no  longer  understood.  Iyeyasu's  patronage 
of  literature,  and  his  measures  for  the  preservation  of  old 
books,  have  been  already  referred  to.  One  of  his  grand- 
sons, the  famous  Mitsukuni  (1622-1700),  Daimioof  Mito, 
inherited  his  great  ancestor’s  love  of  learning.  He  appro- 
priated a considerable  part  of  his  revenue  to  the  cost  of 
collecting  a vast  library  of  books  of  all  kinds,  and  to  the 
maintenance  of  scholars  whom  he  employed  in  the  com- 
pilation of  works  of  research.  The  chief  outcome  of 
their  labours  was  the  well-known  Dai  Nihonshi } a history 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


316 

of  Japan  in  the  Chinese  language,  which  is  recognised  at 
the  present  day  as  the  standard  work  of  its  class. 

One  of  Mitsukuni's  services  to  literature  was  the  pub- 
lication in  1678  of  an  anthology  of  masterpieces  in  the 
Wabun  or  pure  Japanese  style,  under  the  title  Fusd-jiu - 
yo-shiuy  given  to  it  by  the  reigning  Mikado,  to  whom  it 
was  dedicated.  It  is  a fine  specimen  of  the  block-printing 
of  the  time. 

A priest  named  Keichiu  (1640-1701)  was  the  chief 
pioneer  of  the  revived  study  of  the  old  literature.  He 
was  by  birth  a Samurai,  but  out  of  a love  for  learning 
abandoned  the  world  for  the  quiet  of  a Buddhist  monas- 
tery. His  fame  as  a scholar  reached  the  ears  of  Mitsu- 
kuni,  who  invited  him  in  the  most  courteous  manner  to 
come  to  Yedo  and  be  enrolled  in  his  company  of  learned 
men.  Keichiu  declined  this  offer,  upon  which,  the  Prince 
sent  one  of  his  staff  to  prosecute  his  studies  under 
Keichiu's  guidance.  The  latter,  not  to  be  outdone  in 
courtesy,  compiled  and  dedicated  to  Mitsukuni  a treatise 
on  the  Manydshiu , in  twenty  volumes,  entitled  Manyo 
Daishoki.  The  task  of  preparing  a similar  work  had 
already  been  vainly  assigned  to  another  of  the  Prince’s  . 
proteges,  a learned  but  lazy  Wagakusha  called  Shimo- 
kawabe  Choriu.  The  Daishoki  is  now  superseded,  but  it 
was  in  its  day  a work  of  the  highest  importance  for  the 
study  of  the  old  Japanese.  Mitsukuni  evinced  his  satis- 
faction by  sending  the  author  a present  of  one  thousand 
ounces  of  silver  and  thirty  rolls  of  silk. 

Another  book  of  Keichiu’s  was  the  Kokon  Yozaisho , 
which  means  literally  “ A Selection  of  Spare  Timber,  Old 
and  New.’’  It  is  a miscellaneous  collection  of  material 
prepared  by  him  in  the  course  of  his  researphes  for  the 
Daishoki , but  not  used  in  that  work.  He  also  contributed 


KEICHIU 


3*7 


to  the  interpretation  of  the  Ise  Monogatari  and  the  Genji 
Monogatari , and  wrote  a number  of  other  erudite  treatises 
which  are  still  valued  by  scholars.  Like  most  of  the 
Wagakusha,  he  was  a poet,  and  has  left  both  Tanka  and 
Naga-uta,  which  in  metre,  diction,  and  sentiment  are 
little  more  than  echoes  of  the  Manydshiu.  They  are 
adorned  with  the  same  devices  of  pillow  and  pivot  words, 
and  are  in  short  the  old  wine  in  the  old  bottles.  The 
following  simple  effusion  is  in  its  way  not  unpleasing  : — 

The  First  Day  of  Spring 

“ Bending  its  magic  bow,1 
The  spring  hath  come : 

The  eternal  heavens , 

Likewise  the  ore-yielding  earthy 
Are  dim  with  haze j 
The  snow  begins  to  melt 
On  the  mountain' s rim , 

And  the  ice  dissolves 
From  the  surface  of  the  pondj 
The  nightingale' s tender  note 
Sounds  (oh  / how  lovely  /) 

From  amid  the  first  blossoms 
Of  the  plum  branch. 

Now  from  the  memory  fade 
Our  regrets  for  the  bygone  year. 

How  many  days  must  pass 

Before  we  can  go  forth  into  the  meadows 

And  pluck  the  young  pot-herbs  ? 2 

When  will  the  willow 

Flame  into  bud ? 


1 Haru  in  Japanese  means  “ to  bend”  and  also  “spring.”  Hence  this  con- 
junction. There  is  no  intention  of  personifying  spring  as  an  archer.  A small 
bow  forms  part  of  a magician’s  outfit  in  Japan. 

2 An  old  custom  in  early  spring. 


318 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


When  will  l he  cherry-flowers  open  ? 

Such  are  the  expectant  thoughts 

That  on  this  day 

Crowd  into  all  men's  minds” 

About  the  same  time  Kitamura  Kigin,  a scholar  em- 
ployed by  the  Shogun’s  Government,  performed  a useful 
service  by  editing  and  annotating  most  of  the  classical 
works  of  the  Heian  period.  His  editions  of  the  Genji 
Monogatari  and  Makura  Zoshi  are  still  much  esteemed 
by  students.  Kigin  also  wrote  Tanka  and  Haikai. 

Kada  Adzuma-maro  (1669-1736),  the  son  of  the  guar- 
dian of  a Shinto  shrine,  was  Keichiu’s  successor  as  a 
student  of  Japanese  antiquity  and  the  old  classical  litera- 
ture. He  presented  to  the  Government  a memorial,  in 
which  he  protested  vigorously  against  the  exclusive  study 
of  Chinese,  and  urged  the  establishment  of  a . school  for 
the  cultivation  of  the  Japanese  language  and  literature  at 
Kioto.  This  project  received  the  approval  of  the  Shogun’s 
Government,  but  was  never  carried  out.  Kada  was  suc- 
ceeded by  his  nephew  and  adopted  son,  Kada  Arima- 
maro  (1706-1751).  Arima-maro  took  up  his  residence 
in  Yedo,  where  he  continued  his  uncle’s  teachings  with 
some  success. 

Among  the  elder  Kada’s  pupils  the  most  distinguished 
was  MABUCHI  (1697-1769).  Like  his  master,  Mabuchi 
came  of  a family  of  guardians  of  Shinto  shrines.  In  1738 
he  removed  to  Yedo,  where  he  spent  the  remainder  of 
his  life.  He  formed  there  a school  which  produced 
many  famous  men,  and  soon  rivalled  the  Kangakusha 
in  popularity  and  influence.  Motoori,  who  was  one  of 
his  pupils,  describes  him  as  “ the  parent  of  the  study  of 
antiquity.” 

“ It  was  he,”  he  adds,  “ with  whom  began  that  style  of 


MABUCHI 


319 

learning  which  consists  in  devoting  oneself  to  the  exa- 
mination of  the  ancient  language  and  thought  with  a 
mind  wholly  detached  from  Chinese  prepossessions. 
Before  the  time  of  this  master  the  study  of  poetry  was 
confined  to  the  Kokinshiu  and  later  collections.  The 
Manydshiu  was  thought  obscure  and  incomprehensible. 
Nobody  dreamed  of  judging  between  the  good  and  bad, 
of  distinguishing  the  old  from  the  more  recent  poems, 
or  of  mastering  their  language  so  as  to  use  it  as  his 
own.  But  now,  thanks  to  the  teachings  of  this  master, 
we  have  appropriated  the  ancient  language.  It  has 
become  possible  to  compose  poetry  in  the  style  of  the 
Manydshiu , and  even  to  write  prose  after  the  manner  of 
antiquity.  The  men  of  this  day  fancy  that  this  is  due  to 
their  own  exertions,  but  in  reality  they  owe  everything 
to  Mabuchi.  It  is  now  universally  acknowledged  that  in 
studying  ancient  books  like  the  Kojiki  and  Nihongi , it 
is  necessary  to  avoid  being  misled  by  Chinese  notions, 
and  having  first  thoroughly  mastered  the  old  language, 
to  guide  ourselves  by  its  meaning.  This  is  the  very  spirit 
of  Mabuchi's  teaching  of  the  Manydshiu 

Mabuchi  was  a purist  in  style,  and  aimed  at  the 
exclusion  from  his  writings  of  words  of  Chinese  deriva- 
tion as  far  as  this  was  possible.  He  has  left  numerous 
commentaries  and  other  works  of  research,  indispen- 
sable even  now  to  the  student  of  the  older  Japanese 
language.  Among  them  may  be  mentioned  treatises  on 
pillow-words  ( Kanjiko ),  on  poetry,  and  on  prose  com- 
position, and  commentaries  on  the  Manydshiu , on  the 
Norito  ( Norito  Ko ),  the  Genji  Monogatari , and  other 
classical  books.  He  was  also  a writer  of  Tanka  and 
Naga-uta. 

The  greatest  of  the  Wagakusha,  and  one  of  the  most 


320 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


remarkable  men  whom  Japan  has  produced,  was  M'OTO- 
ORI  Norinaga.  He  belonged  to  a family  which  had  been 
originally  Samurai,  and  was  born  in  1730  at  Matsuzaka, 
in  the  province  of  Ise.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
proximity  of  his  native  place  to  the  famous  shrines  sacred 
. from  antiquity  to  the  worship  of  the  Sun  Goddess  and  the 
Goddess  of  Food,  had  a considerable  influence  on  his 
career.  Stories  are  told  of  his  youth,  of  his  omnivorous 
appetite  for  knowledge,  his  precocious  talent,  and  his 
boyish  ambitions,  which  it  is  needless  to  repeat  here.  At 
the  age  of  twenty-one  he  was  sent  to  Kioto  by  his  widowed 
mother  to  study  medicine.  There  he  became  acquainted 
with  the  works  of  Keichiu,  which  he  read  with  avidity. 
In  1757  he  returned  to  Matsuzaka  and  set  up  in  practice 
as  a physician.  Soon  afterwards  his  attention  was  drawn 
to  Mabuchi’s  writings.  In  1761  he  had  a personal  meet- 
ing with  that  great  scholar.  This,  their  only  interview, 
was  followed  by  a long-continued  and  voluminous  corre- 
spondence. 

Motoori’s  life  was  from  this  time  forward  a very  busy 
one.  In  addition  to  his  medical  practice,  which  was  in  a 
flourishing  condition,  he  was  engaged  in  collecting  mate- 
rial for  his  great  commentary  on  the  Kojiki , and  in  giving 
instructions  to  hundreds  of  pupils  whom  the  fame  of  his 
learning  had  attracted  to  him.  Eventually  he  was  taken 
into  the  service  of  the  Daimio  of  Kishiu,  who  was  a great 
admirer  of  his  writings.  Late  in  life  Motoori  resigned 
his  official  position  and  removed  to  Kioto,  where  he  gave 
lectures  which  were  attended  by  audiences  drawn  from 
the  highest  classes  of  society  in  that  city.  He  died  there 
in  1801,  in  the  seventy-second  year  of  his  age.  By  his 
own  desire  he  was  buried  at  his  native  place  on  a hill 
over  the  temple  of  Miorakuji,  a fir  and  cherry  tree  were 


MOTO0RI 


321 

planted  by  his  grave,  and  a stone  set  up  inscribed  simply 
with  his  name. 

Motoori  was  a prolific  writer.  He  brought  out  fifty- 
five  distinct  works  in  over  one  hundred  and  eighty 
volumes.  His  fame  as  a scholar  and  writer  rests  chiefly 
on  his  Kojiki-den,  a commentary  on  the  Kqjiki , the  sacred 
book  of  the  Shinto  religion.1  Before  his  time  the  study 
of  the  Kojiki  had  been  much  neglected,  the  very  language 
in  which  it  is  written  being  well-nigh  unintelligible  even  to 
educated  Japanese.  In  this  monumental  work,  which  fills 
no  fewer  than  forty-four  good-sized  volumes,  he -brought 
to  bear  on  the  elucidation  of  a very  difficult  text  a vast 
store  of  erudite  knowledge,  derived  from  a long  study  of 
the  Manydshiu  and  other  books  of  the  old  literature.  It 
occupied  him  for  many  years.  Begun  in  1764,  it  was 
not  completed  until  1796,  and  the  final  volumes  were 
not  issued  from  the  press  till  long  after  his  death. 

The  Kojiki-den  is  not  only  valuable  for  its  prodigious 
learning ; it  was  a vigorous  blow  aimed  at  the  supre- 
macy of  the  Chinese  school  of  ethics  and  philosophy. 
No  opportunity  is  lost  of  girding  at  everything  Chinese, 
and  of  exalting  the  old  Japanese  customs,  religion,  and 
language,  in  a spirit  of  ardent  and  undiscriminating 
patriotism.  The  Kojiki-den  had  no  small  share  in  pro- 
ducing the  reaction  against  Chinese  ideas  and  institu- 
tions which  has  become  so  pronounced  a characteristic 
of  modern  Japan. 

The  Reki-chd  Shoshi-kai-in  is  an  edition,  with  notes, 
of  the  speeches  and  proclamations  of  some  of  the  early 
Mikados  which  have  been  preserved  to  us  in  a historical 
work  entitled  Shoku  NiJiongi. 

Other  works  of  Motoori’s  are  his  edition  of  the  Kokin - 

1 See  above,  p.  18. 


322 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


shiu  already  noticed ; the  Iso  no  Kami  Shishukugen , a 
treatise  on  poetry  ; the  Gio-jin  Gai-gen}  an  attack  on  the 
Chinese  philosophy  ; the  Tama  no  Ogushi}  a valuable 
critical  and  exegetical  work  on  the  Genji  Monogatari ; 
the  Kenkidjin  (“The  Madman  Fettered"),  a controversial 
work  written  in  reply  to  hostile  criticisms  of  the  sacred 
Shinto  books ; the  Kuzuhana , composed  in  answer  to  a 
similar  attack  by  a scholar  named  Ichikawa  Tatsumaro  ; 
the  Uiyama  bumi,  a treatise  on  methods  of  study,  and  the 
Tama-arai'e  (“Hail  of  Pearls"),  a lively  and  amusing 
critique  of  common  errors  in  writing  Japanese. 

The  Saki-take  no  ben  is  a refutation  of  various  erroneous 
notions  current  with  regard  to  the  gods  of  Ise  and  their 
worship.  The  “ abominable  heresy  " of  some  Kangakusha 
who  would  euhemerise  the  Sun  Goddess  into  an  ordinary 
mortal  empress,  and  make  the  Takama  no  Hara  (or  Plain 
of  High  Heaven)  the  name  of  the  place  where  her  capital 
stood,  is  duly  anathematised.  “What  doubt  can  there 
be  that  Amaterasu  no  Ohomi  Kami  [the  Sun  Goddess] 
is  the  great  ancestress  of  the  Mikados,  and  that  she  is 
no  other  than  the  Sun  of  Heaven  which  illumines  this 
world  ? These  things  are  in  their  nature  infinite,  not  to 
be  measured,  and  mysterious." 

The  Tamagatsuma  (in  fifteen  volumes,  published  post- 
humously in  1812),  may  be  called  “ Motoori’s  Note-book." 
It  is  a collection  of  jottings  of  a very  miscellaneous  char- 
acter, comprising  notes  on  Shinto  ceremonial,  on  the 
old  literature,  on  grammar  and  spelling,  on  poetry,  on 
ancient  customs,  on  the  iniquity  of  Chinese  principles 
and  institutions,  &c.,  &c.  It  is  a mine  of  instruction  to 
all  students  of  Japanese  antiquity,  but  has  little  except 
perhaps  a few  autobiographical  memoranda  which  will 
interest  others. 


MOTOORI 


323 


Another  miscellaneous  work,  the  Suzunoya  no  Bunshiu, 
also  contains  some  interesting  personal  reminiscences.  I 
should  like  to  transcribe  from  it  a delicately  drawn  de- 
scription of  how  the  author  spent  a very  hot  day  in  the 
society  of  some  congenial  friends.  It  is  unfortunately 
too  long  for  quotation. 

Before  Motodri’s  time  there  was  no  Japanese  grammar, 
one  or  two  dictionaries  of  the  Teniwoha  or  particles 
being  hardly  an  exception.  Although  he  did  not  pro- 
duce a systematic  grammar  of  the  Japanese  language, 
Motoori  did  much  to  throw  light  upon  its  structure. 
The  Tama-arare}  already  referred  to,  contains  many 
useful  grammatical  hints.  In  the  Moji-goye  no  Kana- 
dzukai  (1771)  he  enunciated  the  principles  of  the  correct 
spelling  of  Japanese  words,  and  in  the  Kanji  Sanonko 
(1785)  he  dealt  with  the  various  modes  of  spelling  and 
pronouncing  words  of  Chinese  origin*  His  principal 
grammatical  work,  however,  is  the  Kotoba  no  Tama  no 
wo  (1779),  in  which  he  set  forth  and  illustrated  at  great 
length  certain  rules  of  Japanese  syntax.  Conciseness 
was  not  one  of  Motodri’s  merits.  The  seven  volumes  of 
which  this  work  consists  have  been  compressed  without 
material  loss  into  seven  pages  of  English.  His  gramma- 
tical researches  were  continued  by  his  son,  Haruniwa,  in 
whose  well-known  work,  the  Kotoba  no  Yachimatay  the 
inflexional  system  of  the  Japanese  verb  and  adjective  was 
for  the  first  time  formulated,  and  by  his  adopted  son, 
Ohira,  who  was  the  author  of  a treatise  on  causative 
and  passive  verbs.  European  writers  on  Japanese 
grammar  owe  much  to  the  researches  of  Motoori  and 
his  followers. 

Carlyle’s  idea  that  the  qualities  which  go  to  make  a 
man  of  literary  genius  fit  the  same  person  for  being  a 


324 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


statesman  is  a favourite  one  with  the  Japanese.  We 
have  seen  that  Hakuseki  and  Kiuso  were  constantly  con- 
sulted upon  official  matters  by  the  Shogun’s  Government. 
Motoori  was  invited  by  the  Daimio  of  Kishiu  to  place 
on  record  his  views  on  the  government  of  a Daimio’s 
domain,  and  did  so  in  a little  work  in  two  volumes 
entitled  Tama  Kushige  (“The  Precious  Casket”).  In  this 
treatise  he  unbends  from  the  severe  purism  of  his  other 
works,  and  sets  an  example  of  a simple,  practical  style 
well  suited  to  the  subjects  discussed,  and  level  to  the 
meanest  understanding.  His  position  is  that  of  a cautious 
reformer.  He  saw  that  one  of  the  greatest  abuses  of  the 
day  was  the  excessive  number  of  officials  and  retainers 
of  all  kinds,  and  urged  earnestly  that  it  should  be 
diminished  ; gradually,  however,  so  as  to  avoid  injury 
to  vested  interests.  The  oppressed  condition  of  the 
peasantry  had  his  warmest  sympathy.  He  thought  that 
the  ikki  or  agrarian  risings,  which  had  become  common, 
were  a disgrace  to  the  Daimios  in  whose  jurisdiction  they 
occurred,  rather  than  to  the  ignorant  men  who  took  part 
in  them.  The  hara-kiri  is  another  subject  on  which  he 
had  a strong  opinion.  In  his  view  this  form  of  suicide 
had  become  far  too  common.  It  was  not  for  the  public 
advantage,  he  considered,  that  honest  and  capable  men 
should  do  away  with  themselves  because  they  were 
responsible  for  some  trifling  official  miscarriage,  as  was 
too  often  the  case.  He  was  in  favour  of  prohibiting 
all  hara-kiri  without  a formal  order  from  the  culprit’s 
superior. 

It  is  not  by  writing  of  this  kind,  however,  that  Motoori’s 
political  influence  is  to  be  measured.  His  works  helped 
materially  to  enfranchise  the  Japanese  nation  from  their 
moral  and  intellectual  servitude  to  China,  and  to  produce 


MOTOORI 


325 


a spirit  of  self-reliance  and  patriotism  which  at  a sub- 
sequent period  became  translated  into  political  action. 
Though  he  was  himself  loyal  to  the  Shogunate,  he  contri- 
buted indirectly,  but  most  effectively,  to  the  national 
movement  which  in  1867  brought  about  its  downfall, 
and  restored  the  descendant  of  the  Sun  Goddess  to  the 
sovereign  position  which  was  the  logical  result  of  the 
principles  advocated  in  his  works. 

Motoori’s  efforts  on  behalf  of  the  Shinto  religion  pro- 
duced little  tangible  result.  It  was  too  late  to  call  back 
the  deities  of  the  old  pantheon  from  the  Hades  to  which 
the  neglect  of  the  nation  had  consigned  them.  In  his 
own  lifetime  nothing  was  done,  and  although  a half- 
hearted, perfunctory  attempt  to  re-establish  the  ancient 
faith  was  made  in  1868,  the  efforts  of  its  supporters 
were  soon  relaxed.  The  Buddhist  priests  ceased  to  be 
the  guardians  of  the  Shinto  shrines,  and  a so-called 
Shinto  form  of  burial  was  introduced,  but  little  more 
was  effected  that  was  not  soon  afterwards  allowed  to 
fall  into  abeyance.  At  the  present  day  this  religion  is 
practically  extinct. 

All  the  Wagakusha  considered  themselves  bound  to 
compose  poetry  in  the  old  style.  Motoori  acquitted  him- 
self of  this  obligation  more  creditably  than  most  of  his 
fellows.  The  following  Tanka  is  much  admired  : — 

“ If  one  should  ask  you 
What  is  the  heart 
Of  Island  Yamato — 

It  is  the  mountain  cherry  blossom 

Which  exhales  its  perfume  in  the  morning  sun? 


In  other  words,  “The  Japanese  are  instinctively  and 

naturally  noble  and  virtuous — not  like  the  Chinese,  who 
22 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


326 

require  a clumsy  and  artificial  system  of  ethical  philo- 
sophy for  the  cultivation  of  their  moral  natures/’ 

Motoori’s  anti-foreign  and  patriotic  prejudices  go  far 
to  explain  his  antipathy  for  the  Kangakusha  with  their 
extravagant  admiration  for  everything  Chinese.  But 
there  was  a deeper  cause  for  his  dislike  to  their  philo- 
sophy. As  already  stated,  the  Chinese  nation  has  a 
strong  bias  against  the  conception  of  the  power  which 
rules  the  universe  as  a personal  being.  The  Ten  (Heaven) 
of  Confucius  and  Mencius,  and  the  Tao  (Way)  of  Laotze,1 
not  to  speak  of  the  Taikhi  and  other  metaphysical  con- 
ceptions of  the  Sung  schoolmen,  all  fall  short  of  this  idea. 
The  main  bent  of  the  Japanese  mind  is  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. But  there  is  evidence  in  both  countries  of  a con- 
trary current  of  thought.  Here,  too,  there  are  men  born 
with  a craving  which  refuses  to  be  satisfied  with  abstrac- 
tions in  the  place  of  a personal  God  (or  gods)  to  whom 
they  can  look  up  as  the  Creator  and  Ruler  of  the 
universe,  and  as  exercising  a providential  care  over 
mankind.  Motobri  was  one  of  these.  He  professed 
not  even  to  understand  what  the  Sung  schoolmen  meant 
by  their  Taikhi  and  their  Yin  and  Yang , and  stoutly 
maintained  that  these  were  mere  fictions.  But  whatever 
may  be  the  case  with  philosophical  notions,  no  man  can 
evolve  a God  from  his  own  inner  consciousness.  He 
must  accept  the  God  or  gods  which  he  finds  already 
acknowledged,  whether  by  his  own  or  by  other  people’s 
fathers.  Motoori’s  intensely  patriotic  temper  compelled 
him  to  seek  at  home  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  inborn 
religious  instincts.  He  turned  naturally  to  Shinto.  But 
in  his  time  Shinto  had  fallen  on  evil  days.  It  had  suffered 

1 The  late  General  Alexander,  in  his  work  on  Laotze , translates  Tao  by 
“ God.”  He  explains  his  reasons  for  doing  so  in  the  preface. 


MOTOORI 


327 


grievously  from  the  encroachments  of  Buddhism.  Bud- 
dhist priests  had  assumed  the  guardianship  of  the  great 
majority  of  the  shrines  of  the  national  cult,  and  had 
adulterated  its  ceremonies  and  doctrines  with  much  that 
was  alien.  The  native  gods  were  not  abolished — they 
had  still  some  hold  on  the  popular  mind  ; but  they 
were  degraded  to  the  position  of  temporary  manifesta- 
tions of  Buddha.  As  one  of  Motoori’s  pupils  said,  they 
were  made  domestics  in  the  Buddhist  household. 

This  state  of  things  was  a great  grief  to  Motoori.  It 
drove  him  back  from  the  present  to  the  old  unadulterated 
Shinto  taught  in  the  Kojiki , NiJiongi , and  Norito.  Here 
he  found  the  satisfaction  to  his  mind  and  heart  which  he 
had  failed  to  find  elsewhere.  Himself  convinced  of  the 
excellence  of  the  old  national  religion,  he  made  it  the 
business  of  his  life  to  propagate  it  among  his  fellow- 
countrymen,  and  to  denounce  the  abominable  depravity 
of  those  who  neglected  it  in  favour  of  sophistical  heresies 
imported  from  abroad. 

Hence  arose  a controversy  which  is  not  without  in- 
terest to  ourselves  as  an  episode  in  the  unending  con- 
flict between  science  and  religion.  Both  parties  to  the 
struggle  fought  under  grievous  difficulties.  Not  only 
could  the  Kangakusha  offer  nothing  to  satisfy  the  heart- 
need  of  a personal  Deity,  but  they  were  sorely  hampered 
by  the  imperfections  of  their  philosophy,  and  by  a belief 
in  divination,  ghosts,  and  spiritual  beings,  which  they  did 
not  perceive  to  be  inconsistent  with  it.  Motoori  and 
his  followers,  on  the  other  hand,  were  weighted  by  an 
antiquated  mythology  which  presented  many  glaring 
absurdities  even  when  viewed  in  the  dim  light  of  Chinese 
philosophy.  The  Wagakusha  were  also  embarrassed  by 
the  absence  from  Shinto  of  anything  like  a code  of 


328  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

morals.  They  were  therefore  driven  either  to  deny  the 
necessity  of  anything  of  the  kind,  or  to  put  forward  as 
derived  from  Shinto  a system  of  ethical  teaching  which 
was  really  borrowed  from  China. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  here  to  describe  in  as  few 
words  as  possible  the  old  Shinto  of  the  seventh  and  eighth 
centuries,  which  Motoori  aimed  at  restoring.  It  was 
essentially  a nature-worship,  upon  which  was  grafted  a 
cult  of  ancestors.  It  tells  us  nothing  of  a future  state 
of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  contains  the  merest 
traces  of  moral  teaching.  The  Norito , quoted  in  an 
earlier  chapter,  in  enumerating  the  offences  from  which 
the  nation  was  purged  twice  a year  by  the  Mikado  or  his 
representatives,  makes  no  mention  of  any  one  of  the  sins 
of  the  decalogue.  What  then  remains  ? A mythical 
history  of  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  of  the  doings 
of  a number  of  gods  and  goddesses,  the  chief  of  whom, 
namely,  the  Sun  Goddess,  was  the  ancestress  of  the  human 
rulers  of  Japan,  while  from  the  subordinate  deities  were 
sprung  the  principal  noble  families  who  formed  their 
court.  Add  to  this  a ceremonial  comprising  liturgies  in 
honour  of  these  deities  and  we  have  the  Shinto  religion. 

The  mythological  record  begins  with  the  bare  names 
of  a number  of  gods  who  seem  to  have  been  provided 
merely  in  order  to  form  a genealogy  for  Izanagi  and 
Izanami,  the  male  and  female  creator  deities  of  Japan. 
The  creation  is  thus  described  : — 

Izanagi  and  Izanami,  at  the  bidding  of  the  other  deities, 
took  into  their  hands  the  “Jewel-spear  of  Heaven,”  and 
standing  on  the  “ Floating-bridge  of  Heaven,”  stirred 
with  it  the  chaotic  mass  below.  The  brine  which  dripped 
from  its  point  curdled  and  became  an  island/  The  divine 
pair  descended  thither  and  proceeded  to  procreate  the 


motoOri 


329 


islands  of  Japan.  They  also  became  the  parents  of  a 
multitude  of  other  deities,  such  as  the  Mountain  Gods, 
the  Wind  God,  the  Goddess  of  Food,  the  Gods  of  the 
Sea,  Rivers,  and  Moors,  with  many  others  whose  attri- 
butes are  obscure  and  whose  worship  is  forgotten. 
The  last  god  to  be  produced  was  the  Fire  God,  in 
giving  birth  to  whom  Izanami  died.  She  went  to  the 
Land  of  Yomi  or  Hades,  whither  Izanagi  followed  her, 
but  was  obliged  to  retreat  hastily  to  the  upper  world 
hotly  pursued  by  the  thunder  gods  and  the  Ugly  Female 
of  Hades.  In  his  flight  he  made  use  of  various  expe- 
dients to  delay  his  pursuers,  which  recall  similar  devices 
in  European  folk-lore.  After  his  return  to  earth,  Izanagi 
bathed  in  the  sea  in  order  to  wash  away  the  pollutions 
which  he  had  contracted  during  his  stay  in  Hades,  and  in 
doing  so  generated  various  deities,  among  which  were  the 
Sun  Goddess,  produced  from  his  left  eye,  and  the  Moon 
God,  produced  from  his  right  eye.  A third  deity,  named 
Susa  no  wo,  was  at  the  same  time  born  from  his  nose. 
Izanagi  conferred  on  these  three  the  dominion  of  the 
Plain  of  Heaven,  of  Night,  and  of  the  Sea  respectively. 
Susa  no  wo  was  a boisterous  and  rowdy  deity,  whose 
mischievous  and  unseemly  pranks  so  disgusted  the  Sun 
Goddess  that  she  hid  herself  in  the  rock-cave  of  heaven 
and  left  the  world  to  darkness.  The  other  gods  had 
much  ado  to  persuade  her  to  emerge  from  her  seclusion, 
inventing  for  the  purpose  dances  and  other  expedients 
which  are  evidently  meant  to  represent  the  ceremonies 
in  use  at  Shinto  shrines  in  the  times  of  the  Kojiki  and 
Nihongi.  Susa  no  wo  was  then  tried  by  a council  of 
gods,  and  sentenced  to  a fine,  and  banishment  to  this 
lower  world. 

A grandson  of  the  Sun  Goddess  became  the  first  ruler 


330 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


of  Japan.  From  him  was  descended,  after  a few  genera- 
tions, Jimmu  Tenno,  the  first  human  sovereign  of  Japan, 
and  the  founder,  according  to  tradition,  of  the  present 
dynasty  of  Mikados. 

There  is  food  for  reflection  in  the  fact  that  it  was 
possible  for  a man  of  high  intelligence  and  vast  learning 
like  Motobri,  not  unacquainted  with  the  philosophy  and 
religions  of  India  and  China,  to  accept  these  childish 
fables  as  the  basis  of  his  faith.  Yet  not  only  was  he 
himself  a sincere  believer.  He  had  a large  and  zealous 
body  of  followers,  drawn  from  the  highest  and  most 
enlightened  classes  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  Truly  it 
would  almost  seem  as  if,  in  the  words  of  the  Japanese 
proverb,  “ Iwashi  no  atama  mo  shinjin-gara,"  that  is  to 
say,  “ It  is  the  quality  of  faith  that  is  important,  were 
its  object  only  the  head  of  a sardine." 

The  following  passage  from  the  Tamagatsuma  will 
help  us  to  define  more  precisely  Motoori’s  attitude  to- 
wards the  Chinese  school  of  thinkers.  It  is  headed 

“ Chinese  Opinion 

“ In  China  all  good  and  bad  fortune  of  men,  all  order 
and  disorder  in  the  State — everything,  in  short,  which 
happens  in  this  world — is  ascribed  to  the  action  of  Ten 
(Heaven).  Using  such  terms  as  the  Way  of  Ten,  the 
Command  of  Ten,  and  the  Principle  of  Ten,  they  regard 
it  as  a thing  to  be  honoured  and  feared  above  all.  China, 
however,  is  a country  where  the  true  way  generally  has 
not  been  handed  down.  There  they  do  not  know  that  all 
things  are  the  doing  of  the  gods,  and  therefore  resort 
rashly  to  such  inventions.  Now  Heaven  is  nothing  more 
than  the  region  where  the  gods  of  Heaven  'dwell.  It  is 
a thing  destitute  of  sense,  and  it  is  unreasonable  to  talk 


MOTOORI 


33i 


of  its  * command ' and  the  like.  To  fear  and  honour  Ten, 
and  not  fear  and  honour  the  ggds,  is  like  yielding  an  idle 
honour  and  awe  to  the  Imperial  Palace,  and  showing  no 
reverence  or  honour  to  its  sovereign.  Foreign  countries, 
however,  not  having  attained  to  the  knowledge  that 
everything  is  the  doing  of  the  gods,  may  be  pardoned 
for  believing  this  Doctrine  of  the  Way  of  Ten  or  the 
Principle  of  Ten.  But  what  is  to  be  thought  of  those 
who,  in  this  imperial  country,  where  a knowledge  of  the 
true  way  has  been  handed  down,  do  not  take  the  trouble 
to  examine  it,  but,  simply  accepting  the  erroneous  doc- 
trines of  foreign  lands,  imagine  that  that  which  they 
call  Ten  is  a thing  of  peerless  excellence,  and  in  all 
matters  can  talk  of  nothing  but  its  principle  ? Take 
again  their  pedantic  and  wearisome  Taikhi  [the  Great 
Limit],  Mu  Ki  [the  Limitless],  Yin  and  Yang  [Positive 
and  Negative  Principles  of  Nature],  Cliien  and  K'un 
[Celestial  and  Terrestrial  Principles],  Pahwa  [Eight  Dia- 
grams of  the  Book  of  Changes],  and  Wu-hing  [Five 
Elements],  which  are  pure  inventions  of  the  Chinese, 
and  for  which  there  is  in  reality  no  sound  reason.  What 
consummate  folly  it  is  for  those  who  would  interpret 
our  sacred  books  to  rely  implicitly  on  principles  of  this 
kind.  In  recent  times  even  those  who  try  to  divest 
themselves  of  Chinese  prejudices  in  their  interpretations 
fail  to  understand  the  falseness  of  their  doctrines  of  the 
Principle  of  Ten,  and  of  the  Positive  and  Negative  Powers 
of  Nature,  and  do  not  succeed  in  bursting  the  barrier 
because  they  do  not  put  thoroughly  away  from  them 
their  Chinese  notions,  nor  resolutely  rouse  themselves 
from  their  deluding  dreams.  Moreover,  the  refusal  of 
some  to  identify  Ama-terasu  no  Ohomi  Kami  [the  Sun 
Goddess]  as  the  Sun  of  Heaven  is  owing  to  their  being 


332 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

steeped  in  Chinese  narrow-minded  reasonings,  and  so 
become  blind  to  the  wondrous  and  profound  principle 
of  the  true  way.” 

Towards  Buddhism  his  antagonism  is  less  pronounced. 
He  acknowledges  elements  of  good  in  it,  and  for  Laotze 
he  confesses  to  a certain  measure  of  sympathy,  prompted 
no  doubt  by  the  circumstance  that  the  doctrines  of  this 
philosopher  are  irreconcilable  with  the  teachings  of  the 
Sung  schoolmen.  On  the  question  of  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  he  formally  declines  to  give  an  opinion. 

Motoori’s  religion  is  frankly  anthropomorphic,  as  in- 
deed it  could  hardly  fail  to  be  if  he  attached  any 
credence  to  the  statements  in  the  Kojiki.  He  says  in  so 
many  words  that  the  Shinto  deities  had  hands  and  legs. 
When  pressed  with  the  obvious  inconsistencies  which 
are  involved  in  this  belief,  Motoori  has  nothing  better  to 
say  than  they  are  “a  proof  of  the  authenticity  of  the 
record,  for  who  would  have  gone  out  of  his  way  to  invent 
a story  so  ridiculous  and  improbable,  if  it  were  not  true. 
[ Credo  quia  impossible. The  acts  of  the  gods  are  not  to 
be  explained  by  ordinary  principles.  Man's  intelligence 
is  limited,  and  there  are  many  things  which  tran- 
scend it.” 

Not  the  least  of  Motoori's  achievements  was  his  creation 
of  a new  literary  dialect.  It  is  true  that  his  style  was 
more  or  less  modelled  on  that  of  his  teacher  Mabuchi. 
But  the  latter  was  content  to  use  the  pure  Japanese 
language,  or  Wabun,  as  it  is  called,  just  as  he  found  it. 
Stiff  and  antiquated,  it  was  by  no  means  an  apt  instru- 
ment for  the  expression  of  modern  ideas.  In  Motoori's 
hands  it  became  flexible,  picturesque,  and  expressive. 
All  foreign  students  have  felt  the  charm  of  his  lucid 
and  flowing  style.  But  it  is  marred  by  one  terrible  fault, 


MOTOORI 


333 


prolixity.  This  is  partly  inseparable  from  Motoori's 
purism,  which  leads  him  to  reject  many  useful  and 
thoroughly  naturalised  Chinese  words  in  favour  of 
Japanese  forms  of  expression,  however  circuitous,  and 
is  partly  owing  to  an  inveterate  habit  which  he  has  of 
repeating  himself,  especially  when  an  opportunity  offers 
of  denouncing  Chinese  proclivities  or  of  magnifying  the 
merits  of  Shinto. 

Motoori's  Wabun  has  had  many  imitators,  and  it  has 
exercised  a perceptible  influence  on  some  departments 
of  the  more  recent  Japanese  literature. 


CHAPTER  VII 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

Hirata — Kangakusha — Shingaku  Sermons — 
Buddhist  Literature 

The  eminent  theologian  Hirata  Atsutane  1 (1776-1843) 
was  born  in  Kubota,  a town  of  the  remote  province  of 
Dewa.  His  parents  belonged  to  the  Samurai  cl^ss,  and 
he  traced  his  genealogy  on  the  father's  side  through 
the  Mikado  Kwammu,  up  to  the  Sun  Goddess  herself. 
In  his  youth  he  followed  the  usual  course  of  instruc- 
tion in  the  Chinese  classics,  and  had  also  made  fair 
progress  in  the  study  of  medicine,  when,  at  the  age 
of  nineteen,  he  suddenly  made  up  his  mind  to  run 
away  from  home.  He  left  a paper  behind  in  which 
he  informed  his  parents  of  this  resolution,  and  set  out 
for  Yedo  with  one  rio  in  his  pocket.  On  arriving  in 
the  capital  he  applied  for  help  neither  to  the  officials 
of  his  province  nor  to  private  friends,  but  sought  an 
upright  and  virtuous  teacher  under  whose  guidance  he 
might  devote  himself  to  learning.  For  four  or  five 
years  he  lived  from  hand  to  mouth,  having  sometimes 
to  resort  to  manual  labour  for  a livelihood.  In  1800  he 
was  adopted  by  a Samurai  of  the  Matsuyama  Daimiate, 

1 For  a full  account  of  Hirata  and  his  theology,  I would  again  refer  the 
reader  to  Sir  E.  Satow’s  “ Revival  of  Pure  Shinto,”  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Asiatic  Society  of  Japan,  1875. 


334 


HI  RATA 


335 


and  his  position  thus  became  assured.  The  following 
year  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Motoori's  writings. 
This  led  him  to  give  himself  up  entirely. to  the  study  of 
Japanese  antiquity. 

His  first  published  work,  a criticism  of  a treatise 
by  the  famous  Kangakusha,  Dazai  Shuntai,  was  written 
two  years  later.  In  1804  he  began  to  take  pupils,  and 
from  this  time  forward  not  a year  passed  without  some 
publication  by  him.  He  also  practised  as  a physician. 
In  1808  he  was  sent  on  a mission  to  instruct  certain 
Shinto  official  guardians  In  the  principles  of  the  old 
faith,  and  acquitted  himself  with  credit  of  this  duty. 
In  1 81 1 he  retired  to  Suruga,  where  he  composed  the 
Seibun , which  was  the  most  important  work  he  had  yet 
written.  In  1822  the  Abbot  of  Uyeno  (an  Imperial 
prince)  asked  for  a copy  of  his  works,  and  sent  him  a 
handsome  present  in  return.  This  led  subsequently  to 
his  visiting  Kioto,  and  having  his  work  brought  to  the 
notice  of  the  Mikado  and  his  court.  Some  of  his  later 
writings  gave  offence  to  the  Shogun’s  Government,  and 
in  1841  he  was  ordered  to  return  to  his  native  province 
and  to  publish  nothing  more.  He  at  once  started  from 
Yedo  and  proceeded  to  Akita.  The  arrival  of  the  dis- 
tinguished scholar  caused  no  little  excitement  in  that 
remote  place.  His  contemporary  relations  were  mostly 
dead,  but  he  was  welcomed  by  numerous  nephews  and 
other  younger  branches  of  the  family.  The  social  duties 
thus  imposed  upon  him,  together  with  the  demands  upon 
his  skill  as  a physician,  soon  wore  out  his  strength.  He 
died  two  years  later  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven. 

That  in  view  of  their  own  interests  the  Shogun’s 
Government  were  perfectly  right  to  put  a stop  to  Hirata’s 
career  is  not  to  be  doubted.  The  attention  drawn  by 


336  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

his  writings  to  the  divine  descent  of  the  Mikados,  and 
their  unquestioned  and  unquestionable  claim  to  be  con- 
sidered the  de  jure  sovereigns  of  Japan,  was  tending 
slowly  but  surely  to  sap  the  authority  of  the  de  facto 
rulers.  It  was,  however,  a little  late  in  the  day  for  them 
to  interfere.  Nothing  could  undo  the  work  of  nearly 
forty  years  of  assiduous  propagation  of  his  views  both 
through  the  press  and  L>y  viva  voce  lectures  to  his  hun- 
dreds of  disciples.  His  published  works  amount  to 
several  hundred  volumes.  It  is  impossible  to  notice 
more  than  a very  few  of  them  here. 

The  Kishin  Shinron  (1805),  or  “New  Treatise  on  the 
Gods,"  is  a characteristic  specimen  of  Hirata’s  writings. 
He  here  combats  the  rationalistic  theories  of  the  Kanga- 
kusha  by  proving,  or  attempting  to  prove,  that  the  ancient 
Chinese  believed  in  a real  God  called  Shangti  or  Tien,1 
who  dwells  in  heaven,  and  guides  the  affairs  of  this  world, 
but  whom  the  Sung  schoolmen  endeavoured  to  explain 
away  as  a mere  allegory,  attributing  all  phenomena  to 
the  action  of  principles  without  life  which  they  called 
Yin  and  Yang  (Positive  and  Negative  Principles  of 
Nature).  “But  how,"  argues  Hirata,  “can  there  be 
action  without  life  ? Certainly  the  existence  of  activity 
presupposes  a living  God  from  whom  it  proceeds." 

“In  this  connection,"  Hirata  goes  on  to  say,  “I  will 
relate  a story.  Of  late  some  people  have  introduced  the 
learning  of  a country  called  Holland.  It  has  found  a 
good  number  of  students  here  in  Great  Yedo.  It  may 
be  true,  as  I am  told,  that  the  men  of  this  country  are 
fond  of  examining  profoundly  the  principles  of  things. 
Among  other  inventions  they  have  a machine  called 
‘ electer/  which  they  say  is  constructed  by  am  application 
1 In  Japanese  Ten. 


HI  RATA 


337 


of  the  principles  of  thunder  and  lightning.  I saw  this 
machine  some  years  ago.  [Here  follows  a description 
of  the  electric  machine  and  its  operation.]  The  friend 
who  showed  it  to  me  said,  ‘ Thunder  and  lightning  are 
caused  truly  by  this  same  principle.  Why,  then,  should 
we  fear  them  ? The  reason  why  some  people  dread 
them  so  much  is  that  they  do  not  understand  their  prin- 
ciple. This  is  very  foolish/  1 Verily/  replied  I,  ‘this  is 
an  admirably  constructed  machine.  Whether  the  actual 
thunder  and  lightning  are  really  of  the  same  nature  is  a 
matter  on  which  I am  unable  to  form  an  opinion.  But 
supposing  that  to  be  the  case,  is  not  the  production  of 
lightning  [the  electric  spark]  by  it  dependent  upon  you 
and  me  and  our  friend,  one  holding  one  thing,  another 
another,  while  the  third  turns  a handle  ? Well,  then,  the 
same  principle  applies  to  the  real  thunder  and  lightning 
of  the  universe.  It  cannot  be  produced  without  the  action 
of  something  corresponding  to  you  and  me.  Moreover, 
this  machine,  made  by  the  skill  of  man,  is  merely  a small 
engine,  entirely  subject  to  our  control,  and  so  there  is  no 
need  to  fear  it.  But  the  real  thunder  rages  among  the 
clouds,  turning  them  to  confusion,  or,  leaving  them, 
comes  down  to  earth  and  indiscriminately  splits  trees 
or  grinds  rocks  to  powder.  It  may  be  thought  a thing 
of  no  feeling,  yet  there  are  frequent  instances  in  history 
of  evil  things  and  wicked  men  having  been  destroyed 
by  it.'  ” 

Mutatis  mutandis , is  not  this  precisely  the  position  taken 
up  by  Paley  in  his  well-known  apologue  of  the  watch  ? 

The  conversation  ended  in  a hot  discussion,  in  which 
both  parties  lost  their  tempers.  Hirata  saw  no  prospect 
of  convincing  his  opponent,  and  returned  home. 

Good  and  evil,  according  to  Hirata,  flow  from  the 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


338 

action  of  two  classes  of  deities,  each  of  whom  has  his  or 
her  own  particular  function.  But  deities  are,  after  all, 
like  men.  None  are  wholly  bad  or  wholly  good.  A 
benevolent  deity,  if  angered,  may  send  a curse,  and  an 
evil  deity,  on  the  other  hand,  may  occasionally  dispense 
blessings.  Moreover,  an  action  of  the  gods  which  is 
indifferent  in  itself  may  be  good  or  bad,  according  to 
the  object  affecte  h The  hot  sun,  which  delights  the 
cicada,  scorches  the  worm. 

The  efficacy  of  prayer  and  the  nature  of  sacrifices  are 
next  discussed. 

To  the  question,  “ Is  a pious  Shinto  believer  to  wor- 
ship Buddha?"  Hirata  replies  in  the  affirmative.  He 
quotes  a verse  of  Motoori’s  to  the  effect  that  “ Shaka  and 
Confucius  are  also  Kami  [gods],  and  their  way  is  a 
branch  of  the  way  of  the  Kami."  That  this  is  really  the 
case  is  proved,  he  says,  by  the  Buddhist  miracles  which 
have  been  worked  in  Japan  as  in  other  countries.  More- 
over, everything  which  takes  place  in  this  world  being 
ordered  by  the  Kami,  Buddhism  too  must  be  in  accord- 
ance with  their  will.  Hirata,  in  short,  wants  to  turn 
the  tables  on  the  Buddhists,  and,  in  revenge  for  their 
giving  the  Shinto  deities  a subordinate  place  in  their 
theological  system,  proposes  to  make  Buddha  a sort  of 
inferior  Kami. 

Hirata  believed  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and 
takes  pains  to  prove  that  Confucius  did  so  also.  “ If 
the  dead  are  non-existent,"  he  argues,  “what  meaning 
can  there  be  in  the  worship  of  ancestors,  and  how  shall 
we  account  for  the  undoubted  fact  that  dead  men  send 
curses  upon  those  who  have  injured  them  while  alive  ?" 

The  Koshi  Seibun , which  with  its  dependent  works  the 
Koshi-chd  and  Koshi-dcn  constitute  Hirata’s  chief  claim  to 


HI  RATA 


339 


a reputation  for  learning,  was  begun  in  1812.  It  is  an 
attempt  to  harmonise  the  myths  of  the  Kojikiy  Nihongi} 
and  other  ancient  books  in  a continuous  and  consistent 
narrative,  written  in  the  archaic  dialect  of  the  Kojiki.  As 
these  old  stories  differ  very  considerably  among  them- 
selves, Hirata  was  naturally  obliged  to  do  them  violence  in 
order  to  make  them  agree,  and  scholars  will  prefer  to  go 
to  his  originals  rather  than  accept  his  version  of  them. 
A higher  value  attaches  to  the  Koshi-chd  (eleven  volumes, 
1819),  in  which  he  gives  an  account  of  the  authorities  for 
the  text  of  the  Seibun;  but  his  greatest  contribution  to  our 
knowledge  of  Japanese  antiquity  is  the  Koshi-denf  a com- 
mentary on  the  Seibun , in  twenty-eight  volumes,  begun 
in  1812,  but  never  completed.  It  covers  only  143  sections 
of  the  165  of  which  the  Seibun  consists.  The  Koshi-den 
stands  next  after  Motoori’s  Kojiki-den  as  a monument  of 
Japanese  old-world  learning.  It  is  indispensable  to  the 
student  of  Shinto. 

The  Tamadasuki  (ten  volumes)  was  composed  origin- 
ally in  1 81 1,  in  a colloquial  style,  and  rewritten  in  the 
literary  dialect  in  1824.  It  is  a sort  of  breviary  contain- 
ing a set  of  prayers  addressed  to  the  very  numerous 
deities  of  Shinto,  intended,  however,  not  for  temple  but 
for  individual  use.  The  prayers  are  accompanied  by 
a considerable  and  very  heterogeneous  mass  of  com- 
mentary. 

The  Kodd  Tai-iy  or  “Summary  of  the  Ancient  Way” 
(two  volumes,  1811),  states  the  principles  of  the  Shinto 
religion  in  easy  language  and  in  a brief  and  intelligible 
form.  It  is  very  clearly  printed,  and  forms  an  excel- 
lent introduction  to  the  study  of  Shinto  in  its  native 
language. 

Hirata  also  published  summaries  of  Chinese  learning, 


340 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


of  Buddhism,  of  the  art  of  medicine  (chiefly  from  the 
point  of  view  of  its  divine  origin),  of  the  art  of  poetry, 
and  of  the  vulgar  Shinto,  with  other  works  far  too 
numerous  even  to  mention. 

A professed  disciple  of  Motoori,  Hirata  was  more 
exclusively  a theologian  than  his  master.  All  his  works 
were  intended  either  directly  or  indirectly  to  promote  a 
belief  in  Shinto,  which  in  his  hands  assumed  a far  more 
definite  and  tangible  character  than  it  had  ever  done 
before.  Consciously  or  unconsciously,  he  added  to  it 
several  new  features,  such  as  the  doctrine  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  and  a moral  code  purloined  from 
the  stores  of  the  detested  Kangakusha.  Thus  he  says  : 
“ Devotion  to  the  memory  of  ancestors  is  the  mainspring 
of  all  virtue.  No  one  who  discharges  his  duty  to  them 
will  ever  be  disrespectful  to  the  gods  or  to  his  living 
parents.  Such  a man  will  also  be  faithful  to  his  prince, 
loyai  to  his  friends,  and  kind  and  gentle  with  his  wife 
and  children.  For  the  essence  of  this  devotion  is  in 
truth  filial  piety.  These  truths  are  confirmed  [!]  by  the 
books  of  the  Chinese,  who  say  that  the  ‘loyal  subject 
issues  from  the  gate  of  the  pious  son/  and  again,  ‘filial 
piety  is  the  basis  of  all  good  actions.' " 

Hirata’s  writings  have  no  high  value  from  a purely 
literary  point  of  view.  The  native  History  of  Literature 
dismisses  him  in  a few  contemptuous  sentences.  His 
literary  style  is  more  useful  than  elegant.  It  is  formed 
on  the  Wabun  of  Motoori ; but  he  is  much  less  of  a purist 
than  his  master,  and  does  not  reject  useful  words  simply 
because  they  come  from  China.  His  style  has  gained 
thereby  in  vigour  and  conciseness,  but  it  falls  far  behind 
that  of  Motoori  in  distinction  and  charm. 

A certain  number  of  his  less  important  works  are  in  the 


OHASHI  JUNZO  341 

colloquial  dialect.  They  consist  of  lectures  taken  down 
by  his  students  just  as  they  were  delivered.  Two  little 
works  on  Buddhism,  named  Goddben  and  Shutsujd  Shogo, 
belong  to  this  class.  In  them  Hirata  has  undertaken 
the  easy  task  of  ridiculing  popular  Buddhism  in  Japan. 
They  are  racy  and  entertaining  diatribes,  but,  it  must  be 
added,  are  disgraced  by  scurrilous  abuse  quite  unworthy 
of  the  would-be  founder  of  a new  form  of  religion. 

Kangakusha 

There  is  not  much  to  be  said  of  the  Kangakusha  who 
wrote  in  the  Japanese  language  during  the  nineteenth 
century.  Among  them,  Ohashi  Junzo  (1816-1862)  has 
left  a certain  reputation  as  one  of  the  most  determined 
opponents  of  the  policy  which  led  to  the  opening  of 
Japan  to  foreign  trade  in  1859.  His  chief  work,  the  Heki- 
ja-shd-ron , which  is  a violent  and  ignorant  attack  upon 
the  moral  and  philosophical  ideas  of  Europe,  was  written 
to  promote  this  object.  It  was  published  in  1857.  The 
character  of  its  contents  may  be  gathered  from  the  head- 
ings, “ Europe  knows  not  philosophy,”  “ Europe  knows 
not  heaven,”  “ Europe  knows  not  benevolence  and 
righteousness,”  “ Europe  knows  not  versatile  talent.'' 
He  also  wrote  a history  of  the  Tartar  invasion  of  Japan, 
entitled  Genko  Kiriaku  (1853). 

Junzo  did  not  confine  himself  to  attacking  European 
learning  in  his  writings.  He  took  part  in  the  anti-foreign 
agitation  which  culminated  in  the  murder  of  Ando 
Tsushima  no  Kami  in  February  1862.  He  was  arrested, 
thrown  into  prison,  and  examined  under  torture,  but  suc- 
ceeded in  satisfying  his  judges  that  he  was  not  directly 
implicated  in  this  crime.  Exhausted  by  his  sufferings, 

he  died  five  days  after  his  release  from  prison. 

23 


342 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Shingaku  (Heart-learning)  Sermons 

As  Buddhism  absorbed  Shinto,  and  as  Hirata,  on  behalf 
of  the  latter  religion,  proposed  to  admit  Buddha  and  his 
saints  to  a humble  place  in  the  native  assemblage  of 
deities,  so  the  Shingaku  movement  was  an  attempt  to 
utilise  both  religions  in  the  interests  of  Chinese  philo- 
sophy and  ethics.  The  preachers  of  this  school  professed 
to  combine  the  teachings  of  all  three  faiths,  and  they 
spoke  with  something  more  than  tolerance  of  Buddhism 
and  Shinto  ; but  they  were  at  heart  rationalists,  to  whom 
much  in  the  popular  presentation  of  both  these  religions 
must  have  appeared  utterly  unworthy  of  credence.  They 
tried,  however,  to  smooth  over  matters  by  introducing  the 
proviso  that  everything  in  them  which  is  irreconcilable 
with  reason  is  to  be  regarded  as  hoben . This  hoben  is  a 
word  of  great  virtue.  It  is  quite  inoffensive,  and  embraces 
everything  which,  though  not  strictly  in  accordance  with 
fact,  tends  to  edification.  It  is  alike  applicable  to  the 
parables  of  the  Gospels,  the  lives  of  the  saints,  and  even 
to  the  Neapolitan  miracle  of  the  liquefaction  of  the  blood 
of  St.  Januarius.  To  the  tolerant  minds  of  the  Shingaku 
preachers  the  use  of  any  weapon  which  was  likely  to  be 
useful  in  that  struggle  between  the  powers  of  light  and 
darkness  which  goes  on  in  Japan,  as  elsewhere,  was  not 
only  permissible,  but  laudable,  and  even  imperative.  That 
it  might  have  been  taken  from  the  armoury  of  the  enemy 
was  with  them  a very  minor  consideration. 

Practically,  the  maxims  of  Confucius  and  Mencius  are 
the  sources  of  the  Shingaku  doctrines.  The  preachers 
usually  take  their  texts  from  the  writings  of  "one  of  these 
two  sages.  They  address  themselves  to  the  ignorant,  and 


SHINGAKU 


343 


more  especially  to  women  and  children,  and  their  lan- 
guage is  the  ordinary  colloquial  speech  of  Kioto  and 
Osaka.  Works  of  this  kind  are  much  despised  in  Japan 
by  the  learned,  who  look  upon  the  language  of  ordinary 
life  as  quite  unfitted  for  literature.  These  discourses, 
however,  are  not  without  merit ; the  style  is  homely,  but 
vigorous  and  direct,  and  they  are  admirably  suited  to 
arouse  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  to  some  sense  of  the 
cardinal  truths  which  underlie  all  systems  of  morality. 

The  best  are  the  collections  entitled  Kiud  Ddnva , Shin- 
gaku Dowa,  and  Teshima  Dowa.  Of  these  the  Kiud 
Dowa  is  undoubtedly  the  most  amusing.  Indeed,  it  may 
safely  be  said  that  few  more  entertaining  sermons  are 
to  be  found  anywhere.  But  the  reader  must  not  be 
squeamish.  For  although  of  unexceptionable  morality, 
and  addressed  virginibus  puerisque , the  stories  and  illus- 
trations with  which  this  and  others  of  these  collections 
abound  are  frequently  of  a very  Rabelaisian  character. 
The  Shingaku  Dowa  is  somewhat  more  scrupulous  in 
this  respect,  and  reaches  a higher  level  in  every  other 
way  except  that  it  is  unfortunately  less  amusing. 

Three  sermons  from  the  Kiud  Dowa  have  been  trans- 
lated by  Mr.  Mitford  in  his  Tales  of  Old  Japan.  One  of 
these,  comprising  the  original  text,  notes,  a romanised 
version,  and  an  English  translation,  was  published  by 
the  late  J.  O’Neill  as  a First  Japanese  Book. 

The  Shingaku  movement  received  a good  deal  of 
official  support  and  countenance,  and  attracted  much 
public  attention,  during  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  ; but  it  is  not  surprising  that  it  ultimately  proved 
abortive.  The  attempt  to  reconcile  three  such  conflicting 
elements  as  Buddhism,  Shinto,  and  Confucianism  was  in 
reality  hopeless. 


344  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

The  Buddhist  literature  of  Japan  forms  a separate  sub- 
ject, which  I shall  not  attempt  to  deal  with.  Most  of  it 
is  m the  Chinese  language,  and  that  part  which  is  in 
Japanese  is  not  very  important  as  literature.  It  consists 
chiefly  of  lives  of  the  Buddhist  saints,  and  of  edifying 
tracts  and  stories  all  addressed  to  the  more  ignorant 
classes,  and  highly  seasoned  with  a thaumaturge 
element. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


NINETEENTH  CENTURY  ( Continued) — FICTION 

Romantic  School  — Kioden,  Tanehiko,  Bakin. 
Humourists — Samba,  Ikku.  Sentimental  Novels 
— Shunsui.  Works  in  Chinese  of  Yedo  Period 

The  eighteenth-century  writers  of  Jitsuroku-mono  or 
historical  novels  did  not  attempt  to  invent  plots  for  them- 
selves or  to  introduce  imaginary  personages  of  import- 
ance, although  in  minor  details  they  allowed  their  fancy 
free  play.  Santo  Kioden  (1761-1816)  was  the  first  to 
give  to  the  world  the  romantic  novel  pure  and  simple. 
He  was  followed  by  Bakin,  Tanehiko,  and  a host  of 
other  writers  whose  existence  can  only  be  indicated.  It 
is  quite  impossible  to  notice  them  or  their  numerous 
works  more  particularly. 

Kioden  was  a genuine  Yedokko  or  Child  of  Yedo,  the 
Japanese  term  corresponding  to  our  “ Cockney.”  He 
was  born  in  that  city  in  1761,  of  parents  of  the  merchant 
class.  His  youth  was  unpromising.  He  spent  much  of 
his  time  in  places  of  ill  resort,  sometimes  remaining  away 
from  home  for  weeks  together.  Books  were  his  abhor- 
rence, and  all  attempts  to  teach  him  a profession  were  in 
vain.  He  took  lessons  in  painting  from  the  well-known 
artist  Kitawo  Shigemasa,  and  it  is  stated  by  Mr.  W.  Ander- 
son 1 that  he  has  left  many  beautiful  chromoxylographs, 

1 In  his  Catalogue  of  fapanese  Pictures  in  the  British  Museum. 

345 


346  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

but  his  native  biographers  pronounce  him  a failure  in  this 
respect  also.  In  1790  he  married  a woman  of  the  harlot 
class.  Notwithstanding  what  has  been  asserted  by  some 
English  writers,  such  unions  are  regarded  in  Japan  with 
marked  disapproval,  and  his  friends  augured  little  good 
of  Kioden’s  choice.  His  wife,  however,  proved  an  excep- 
tion to  the  general  rule.  She  made  an  excellent  house- 
wife, and,  the  chief  of  virtues  in  a Japanese  married 
woman,  was  unremitting  in  her  dutiful  attentions  to  her 
father-in-law.  In  short,  she  won  respect  from  all  Kioden's 
acquaintances,  and  was  spoken  of  by  them  as  “ the  lotus- 
flower  which  has  its  roots,  in  the  mud.”  When  she  died 
he  married  another  woman  of  the  same  class,  who  also 
made  him  a good  wife. 

Kioden’s  place  of  business  was  near  the  Kiobashi  (a 
bridge)  in  the  street  called  Temmacho.  Hence  the  name 
by  which  he  is  known  as  an  author,  and  which  is  com- 
posed of  the  first  syllables  of  the  names  of  these  two 
places.  His  real  name  was  Iwase  Denzo,  and  he  had 
half-a-dozen  other  appellations  at  various  periods  of  his 
life  and  in  various  capacities.  Kioden  sold  smoking 
apparatus,  such  as  pipes,  tobacco-pouches,  and  the  like, 
while  he  was  also  the  inventor  and  compounder  of  a 
quack  medicine,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Doku- 
shogwan,  or  Reading  Pills,  the  precise  operation  of  which 
I have  not  been  able  to  discover.  He  had  the  reputation 
of  a shrewd  and  successful  man  of  business,  and  was 
especially  noted  for  his  quickness  at  mental  reckoning. 
He  seldom  bought  books,  but  was  always  borrowing, 
and  made  it  a rule  when  drinking  with  a friend  that  each 
should  pay  his  own  share,  which,  as  we  know  from  “ Auld 
Lang  Syne,”  was  also  the  practice  of  Robert  Burns.  This 
became  known  as  the  Kioden  fashion. 


KIODEN 


347 


Kioden’s  first  work  (1782)  was  an  imitation,  more  by 
way  of  joke  than  anything  else,  of  some  ephemeral  pub- 
lications describing  the  manners  of  the  brothel-quarter  of 
Yedo.  It  was  successful  to  a degree  which  surprised  no 
one  more  than  the  author.  His  next  work  was  equally 
well  received.  Fortunately  for  his  fame,  his  career  as  a 
purveyor  of  pornography  was  put  a stop  to  by  the  police 
authorities.  Kioden,  with  many  others,  was  prosecuted 
under  the  edict  promulgated  in  1791  for  the  suppression 
of  such  publications,  and  was  condemned  to  fifty  days’ 
handcuffs  (in  his  own  house).  The  work  which  brought 
down  on  him  this  punishment  he  had  had  the  audacity 
to  describe  on  the  cover  as  an  “ Edifying  Story-book.” 
He  wrote  no  more  books  of  this  kind.  In  one  of  his 
later  prefaces  he  protests  strenuously  that  his  works, 
although  fiction,  would  be  found  to  inculcate  the  highest 
morality.  It  is  quite  true  that  they  are  free  from  coarse- 
ness or  licentiousness,  although  their  moral  tendency 
leaves  something  to  be  desired,  at  least  from  the  Euro- 
pean point  of  view.  Kioden  lost  nothing  by  his  reforma- 
tion. The  bookshops  were  crowded  by  eager  purchasers 
of  his  novels.  The  very  horse-boys  and  cow-herds  knew 
his  name,  and  his  house  was  besieged  by  rival  publishers 
clamouring  for  manuscript.  Kioden  took  advantage  of 
his  popularity  to  insist  on  definite  payment  for  his  com- 
positions. His  predecessors,  we  are  told,  received  nothing 
for  their  works  but  an  occasional  invitation  to  supper  in 
some  place  of  public  resort,  or  presents  of  trifling  value 
when  their  books  sold  well. 

The  first  work  for  which  Kioden  bargained  for  pay- 
ment was  an  early  production  entitled  Shogi  Kinuburuiy 
a share-bo?if  for  which  he  received  the  munificent  sum  of 
one  rio. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


348 

Kioden’s  best  known  stories  are  the  Liadzuma  Hidshi 
(1805),  of  which  some  account  is  given  below,  the  Honcho 
Suibodai  (1806),  the  JJdonge  Monogatari  (1804),  the  Sos/ioki 
(1813),  the  Chiushin  Suikoden  (1798),  a version  of  the 
forty-seven  Ronin  legend,  and  the  Fukushiu  Kidan  Asaka 
no  numa.  He  was  also  the  author  of  two  works  of  anti- 
quarian research  which  are  much  valued  by  native  spe- 
cialists : these  are  the  Kottoshiu  and  the  Kinse  Kikeki  Ko . 

Kioden’s  writings  would  be  classed  by  us  among  “ sen- 
sation ” novels.  Wonder,  amazement,  and  horror  are 
the  feelings  which  he  aims,  not  unsuccessfully,  at  exciting. 
His  style,  however,  is  simple  and  straightforward  ; and 
although  he  can  be  graphic  and  picturesque  upon  occa- 
sion, he  is  not  fond  of  that  superfine  writing  to  which 
some  of  his  successors  and  contemporaries  were  so  prone, 
and  which  is  so  exasperating  to  European  readers. 

It  is  possibly  a mere  personal  bias  which  leads  me  to 
prefer  him  to  his  pupil,  the  much-vaunted  Bakin.  If  any 
Japanese  novel  deserves  to  be  published  complete  in 
English  dress,  one  of  Kioden’s  would,  I think,  be  found 
the  most  suitable  for  this  purpose. 

His  masterpiece  is  perhaps  the  Inadzuma  Hidshi , one 
of  those  tales  of  revenge  of  which  the  Japanese  popular 
literature  contains  many  examples.  The  characters  are 
so  numerous  and  the  plot  so  complicated  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  give  an  adequate  summary  of  it  here.  Amongst 
the  incidents  related  are  several  murders  and  homicides, 
described  with  much  vigour  and  an  abundance  of  grue- 
some details,  a hara-kiri  and  other  suicides,  thefts,  sales 
of  women  by  their  relatives,  terrific  combats,  hairbreadth 
escapes,  dying  speeches  of  great  length,  tortures,  strange 
meetings,  and  surprising  recognitions.  There  is  an  ex- 
cellent description  of  a Japanese  fair,  with  its  booths  of 


KIODEN 


349 


merchandise,  its  lecturers,  quack-doctors,  fortune-tellers, 
and  shows  of  wonders.  There  are  beauteous  maidens 
at  the  sight  of  whom  the  moon  hides  her  head  for  shame 
and  the  flowers  close,  demons  of  smallpox  and  of  suicide, 
scenes  of  witchcraft  and  enchantment,  with 

“ Dreams , magic  terrors , spells  of  mighty  power. 

Witches  and  ghosts  who  rove  at  the  nightly  hour? 

This  is  surely  a sufficient  stock  of  material  with  which 
to  furnish  a novel  of  twenty  chapters  and  about  three 
hundred  pages. 

Each  chapter,  as  is  the  custom  with  Japanese  novelists, 
has  a sensational  heading,  such  as  “ The  Hovel  and 
the  Strange  Stratagem,"  “The  Danger  by  the  Wayside 
Shrine,"  “The  Guitar's  Broken  String,"  “The  Witchcraft 
of  the  Venomous  Rats,"  “The  Drum  of  Hell." 

The  following  is  part  of  the  opening  chapter  of  the 
Honchd  Suibodai : — 

“ In  the  reign  of  Go  Hanazono  [fifteenth  century]  there 
was  a pilgrim  named  Shikama  no  Sonematsu.  He  had 
been  told  in  his  youth  by  a soothsayer  that  his  physiog- 
nomy indicated  a danger  by  the  sword,  so  in  order  to 
avoid  such  a calamity  he  entered  the  way  of  Buddha. 
He  had  no  settled  residence,  but  wandered  about  visiting 
one  province  after  another.  At  length  he  arrived  at  a 
place  called  Rokudo,  in  the  district  of  Atago,  in  the  pro- 
vince of  Yamashiro.  Darkness  came  on.  A wide  moor 
stretched  out  before  him  which  afforded  no  lodging,  so 
he  resolved  to  spend  the  night  there,  and  take  shelter 
under  a tree.  This  Rokudo  is  a place  of  burial  on  the 
moor  of  Toribe,  provided  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men.  Here  the  monuments  of  the  dead  stand  in  long 
rows,  some  overgrown  with  moss,  some  freshly  carved. 


350 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Not  a day  elapses  in  which  some  one  does  not  pass  to 
exile  here.  Dew  [of  tears]  follows  upon  dew,  one  smoke 
[of  cremation]  succeeds  another  without  an  interval. 
The  lines — 

‘ The  name  remains , the  form  has  vanished , 

The  bones  beneath  the  fir-clad  mound 
Are  changed  to  ashes  in  the  grassy  mead  ’ — 

must  have  been  said  of  some  such  place  as  this.  An 
utterly  wild  and  dismal  moor  it  was,  the  deep  grass 
drenched  with  dew,  and  here  and  there  a bleached  bone 
showing  among  it.  A weird,  uncanny  spot  indeed,  fit 
to  inspire  such  sentiments  as  those  of  the  poet,  who 
says — 

‘ He  is  gone  to  his  long  home , 

And  we  who  now  return 
Will  one  day  follow  him 
On  the  rugged  path 
That  leads  to  Hades. 

While  in  such  gloomy  thoughts  immersed \ 

The  moon  glimmering  through  the  smoke  [of  cremation ] 
Seems  like  a crag  of  the  Eagle's  Mount?  1 

“ Well,  then,  our  pilgrim  Sonematsu,  brushing  away  the 
dew  from  the  moss  below  an  ancient  fir-tree,  put  down 
his  portable  shrine.  It  was  the  season  of  the  festival  of 
the  dead,  so  by  way  of  a fire  to  light  their  path  from 
Hades  [the  dead  are  supposed  to  revisit  the  earth  at  this 
time],  he  gathered  some  leaves  and  kindled  them,  the  dew 
upon  them  standing  for  the  offering  of  water.  Then 
turning  to  the  Buddha  of  the  shrine  which  he  carried 
with  him,  and  striking  his  bell,  he  recited  the  prayer  for 
the  dead.  Whilst  he  was  thus  deep  in  his  devotions,  the 
1 A mountain  in  India  where  Buddha  preached — put  for  the  other  world. 


KIODEN 


35 


moon  was  shedding  a full  flood  of  crystal  light,  and  the 
lespedeza,  the  Platy codon  grandiflorum , the  Anthesteria 
barbata , the  valerian,  the  pampas  grass  [or  something  like 
it],  the  Dolichos  bulbosus , and  such-like  flowers1  were 
blossoming  luxuriantly  and  heavy  with  dew.  The  shrill 
notes  of  various  insects  piping  with  all  their  might,  mingled 
with  the  chanting  of  the  prayers  and  the  sound  of  the  bell, 
produced  a sense  of  loneliness  and  desolation.  There 
was  borne  on  the  wind  the  boom  of  a bell  struck  in  some 
temple  away  on  the  moor,  which  by  the  number  of  its 
strokes  indicated  that  the  night  was  already  far  spent. 
H is  fire,  too,  had  gone  out,  so  the  pilgrim  thought  to 
himself,  ( I must  snatch  a short  sleep.'  He  hung  up  a 
tent  of  oil-paper,  and  spreading  on  the  grass  his  rain 
coat  to  keep  off  the  dew  of  night,  with  a tree-root  for  his 
pillow  he  laid  himself  down.  He  was  soon  plunged  in 
deep  slumber,  forgetful  alike  of  past  and  future.  But 
after  awhile  he  woke,  and  pricking  up  his  ears,  1 Was 
that  an  insect’s  cry  ? No  ! it  was  a faint,  far-off  sound  of 
music.’  The  pilgrim  wondered  how  on  this  desolate 
moor,  at  this  late  hour  of  the  night,  such  beautiful  music 
could  be  heard.  Was  it  not  an  enchantment  by  some 
fox,  badger,  or  wild  cat  ? Presently  he  raised  up  his  tent, 
and  putting  out  his  head,  looked  round.  The  weather 
had  changed,  and  a night  mist  had  gathered  thickly, 
obscuring  the  moon.  Even  nigh  at  hand  nothing  could 
be  seen.  But  the  music  came  closer  and  closer.” 

The  mist  clears  away,  the  moon  again  shines  out,  and 
a splendid  palace  is  seen,  which  Kioden  describes  with 
great  wealth  of  language.  It  proves  to  be  inhabited 
by  the  spirits  of  a wicked  lady  of  noble  birth  and 
her  equally  wicked  retainers,  who  use  the  brief  respite 

1 Such  are  some  of  the  difficulties  of  a translator  from  the  Japanese. 


352 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


granted  them  from  the  tortures  of  hell  to  plot  further 
mischief  against  their  former  enemies  in  this  life. 

One  of  the  few  Japanese  authors  whose  fame  has 
penetrated  to  Europe  is  Kiokutei  Bakin  (1767-1848). 
In  his  own  country  he  has  no  rival.  Nine  out  of  ten 
Japanese  if  asked  to  name  their  greatest  novelist  would 
reply  immediately  “ Bakin." 

He  was  born  in  Yedo,  and  was  the  youngest  of  three 
sons  of  a retainer  of  an  official  of  the  Shogun’s  Govern- 
ment, named  Matsudaira  Shinsei.  When  only  eight, 
Bakin  was  appointed  to  attend  upon  the  son  of  his  lord, 
who  was  a boy  like  himself.  At  the  age  of  thirteen, 
unable  any  longer  to  endure  the  tyranny  of  his  young 
master,  he  ran  away  from  home.  His  elder  brother  pro- 
cured him  several  other  situations,  but  he  had  not  the 
patience  to  remain  in  any  of  them.  He  was  also  appren- 
ticed to  a physician,  and  became  the  pupil  of  a Kanga- 
kusha  or  Chinese  scholar,  but  completed  his  studies 
with  neither.  At  this  period  of  his  life  he  was  for  a short 
time  a public  fortune-teller  at  Kanagawa,  close  to  the 
treaty  port  of  Yokohama  ; but  having  lost  all  he  possessed 
by  a flood,  he  returned  to  Yedo.  Here  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  the  novelist  Kioden,  who  received  him 
into  his  house  and  showed  him  great  kindness.  It  was 
while  residing  with  Kioden  that  Bakin  produced  his  first 
novel  (1791).  Kioden  admired  it  so  much  that  he  ex- 
claimed, “ In  twenty  or  thirty  years  I shall  be  forgotten." 
In  the  title-page  of  this  work  Bakin  describes  himself  as 
Kioden’s  pupil.  It  is  not  creditable  to  him  that  at  the 
height  of  his  fame  he  tried  to  destroy  all  traces  of  this 
fact,  and  with  this  object  bought  up  as  many  copies  of 
his  early  publication  as  he  could  find. 

Through  Kioden’s  influence,  Bakin  obtained  a position 


BAKIN 


353 


as  a bookseller’s  assistant,  in  which  situation  he  re- 
mained three  years.  A novel  which  he  wrote  at  this 
period,  and  which  was  illustrated  by  Hokusai,  was  very 
successful. 

Bakin  was  a tall,  well-built  man.  One  day  the  manager 
of  a company  of  wrestlers  came  into  the  bookseller’s 
shop.  He  greatly  admired  Bakin’s  stature  (over  six  feet), 
and  said,  “Join  us,  my  boy,  and  I promise  you  a reputa- 
tion which  will  extend  everywhere  within  the  four  seas.” 
Bakin  laughed,  but  vouchsafed  no  answer.  The  old 
Samurai  pride  still  clung  to  him.  The  uncle  of  his  em- 
ployer, who  kept  a tea-house,  supported  by  the  custom  of 
an  adjoining  brothel,  proposed  to  Bakin  that  he  should 
marry  his  daughter,  a girl  of  considerable  personal  attrac- 
tions. Bakin  refused  disdainfully  to  become  connected 
with  a family  which  drew  its  income  from  this  source. 
Brothel-keeping,  he  said,  was  no  better  than  begging  or 
thieving,  and  he  must  decline  to  disgrace  the  body  he  had 
received  from  his  parents  by  such  a marriage.  He  left  the 
bookseller  in  order  to  marry  the  daughter  of  the  widow 
of  a dealer  in  shoes  in  Iida-machi,  becoming  his  mother- 
in-law’s  adopted  son  and  heir,  as  is  the  Japanese  custom. 
He  was  too  fond  of  the  pen  and  ink-slab,  however,  to 
be  a good  business  man,  and  as  soon  as  his  daughter 
reached  a marriageable  age  he  provided  her  with  a hus- 
band, to  whom  he  handed  over  the  shoe  business. # He 
himself  went  to  live  with  his  son,  who  now  held  the 
position  of  physician-in-ordinary  to  the  Daimio  of  Mat- 
sumaye.  Bakin  not  only  contributed  to  the  household 
resources  by  keeping  a school,  but  earned  a consider- 
able income  from  the  novels  which  he  produced  in 
rapid  succession.  At  the  age  of  seventy  he  became 
almost  blind,  but  he  still  continued  his  labours,  his 


354 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


widowed  daughter-in-law  acting  as  his  amanuensis.  He 
died  at  the  age  of  eighty-one,  after  a career  as  an  author 
of  more  than  sixty  years.  The  amount  of  saleable 
“copy"  produced  by  Bakin  can  have  few  equals  in 
literary  annals.  His  pen  was  never  at  rest,  and  the 
rapidity  with  which  he  composed  may  be  inferred  from 
the  circumstance  related  by  himself,  that  one  of  his 
novels  (of  about  two  hundred  pages)  was  completed  by 
him  in  a fortnight,  “to  stay  the  demands  of  an  impor- 
tunate publisher."  He  is  said  to  have  written  no  fewer 
than  two  hundred  and  ninety  distinct  works,  many  of 
which  were  extremely  voluminous.  Some  authorities 
put  the  figure  still  higher. 

Bakin  was  not  an  amiable  man.  He  is  described  as 
upright,  but  obstinate  and  unsociable.  A single  word 
which  offended  him  made  of  him  an  enemy  for  life. 
Even  Kioden,  to  whom  he  owed  so  much,  could  not 
get  on  with  him.  The  famous  artist  Hokusai,  who 
illustrated  many  of  his  novels,1  had  also  reason  to  com- 
plain of  his  morose  and  intractable  temper.  Edmond 
de  Goncourt,  in  his  life  of  Hokusai,  says  that  the  quarrel 
between  the  painter  and  Bakin  occurred  in  1808,  and 
was  caused  by  the  immense  success  of  the  illustrations 
to  the  Nanka  no  Yume , of  which  Bakin  was  jealous.  It 
was  smoothed  over  by  friends,  but  broke  out  again  with 
great*violence  in  1811,  when  a continuation  of  that  novel 
was  brought  out.  Bakin  accused  Hokusai  of  paying  no 
attention  to  his  text,  and  demanded  that  the  drawings 
should  be  altered.  But  the  publishers  had  already  en- 
graved both  text  and  pictures. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  Bakin’s  recriminations  on 

1 See  Mr.  W.  Anderson’s  Catalogue  of  Japanese  Pichires  in  the  British 
Museum , p.  357. 


BAKIN  355 

this  occasion  that  Hokusai  turned  his  attention  to  pub- 
lishing volumes  of  pictures  without  text. 

It  is  impossible  to  notice  more  than  a few  of  Bakin’s 
publications.  The  early  years  of  the  century  were  a time 
of  great  literary  activity  with  him.  In  1805  he  published 
the  Y umibari-tsuki  (“The  Bow-bend  or  New  Moon”), 
which  is  thought  by  some  to  be  his  masterpiece.  It 
professes  to  be  an  imitation  of  the  Chinese  romantic 
histories,  but  departs  far  more  widely  from  historical 
truth,  and  is  indeed  a romance  pure  and  simple,  though 
a few  of  the  personages  have  names  taken  from  real 
history. 

The  hero  of  this  story  is  one  Hachiro  Tametomo,  a 
famous  archer  of  the  twelfth  century,  whose  adventures 
and  exploits  fill  over  eight  hundred  pages  of  the  modern 
closely  printed  edition.  For  intelligence  and  valour  he 
had  no  peer.  His  stature  was  seven  feet.  He  had  the 
eyes  of  a rhinoceros,  and  the  arms  of  a monkey.  In 
strength  he  had  no  equal,  and  was  skilled  in  drawing  the 
nine-foot  bow.  Nature  seemed  to  have  destined  him  for 
an  archer,  for  his  left  arm  was  four  inches  longer  than 
his  right.  His  eyes  had  each  two  pupils. 

Tametomo  on  one  occasion  was  allowed  to  attend  a 
lecture  given  before  the  Mikado  by  a scholar  named 
Shinsei.  The  conversation  afterwards  turned  on  the 
great  archers  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  Tametomo, 
at  this  time  a boy  of  twelve,  broke  in  with  the  following 
speech  : — 

“ 1 It  is  useless  to  discuss  the  superiority  of  this  one  or 
that,  for  among  archers  of  the  present  day  I do  not  think 
there  are  any  who  excel  Tametomo  in  repulsing  myriads 
of  stalwart  foes.'  Shinsei,  on  hearing  this,  was  so  taken 
aback  that  for  a while  he  made  no  answer.  Then  bursting 


356  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

suddenly  into  a boisterous  laugh,  he  said,  1 An  art  requires 
months  and  years  of  hewing  and  polishing  before  it  reaches 
perfection.  Even  if  you  had  practised  since  your  baby- 
hood, you  are  little  over  ten  years  of  age.  Bethink  your- 
self. Men  are  not  wooden  figures.  If  you  try  to  shoot 
them,  they  will  try  to  shoot  you.  Those  who  are  skilled 
in  shooting  should  also  learn  to  ward  off  the  shafts.  Are 
you  prepared  to  catch  the  arrows  shot  at  you  V Tame- 
tomo,  without  waiting  for  him  to  finish  his  speech, 
replied,  ‘ Hoi,  in  his  eighth  year,  acted  as  general  for  the 
Chinese  Emperor  Shun  ; Duke  Yeki,  in  his  fifth  year, 
had  the  direction  of  fire.  Wisdom  and  folly,  skill,  and 
the  want  of  it,  are  not  to  be  reckoned  by  years.  Be 
pleased  to  summon  archers  the  most  nimble-handed. 
Even  though  it  were  the  arrows  endued  with  understand- 
ing of  the  goddess  Kwannon,  I will  show  you  how  easily 
I shall  catch  them.'  Shinsei,  who  from  the  first  had 
intended  to  give  him  a sharp  lesson,  at  the  unflinching 
attitude  of  Tametomo  became  highly  exasperated.  Pro- 
bably thinking  it  an  opportunity  for  making  a display  of 
his  own  influence,  he  stood  up  abruptly  and  called  out, 
1 Who  are  in  attendance  ? Let  them  bring  bows  and 
arrows/  ‘Your  will  shall  be  obeyed,'  was  the  answer. 
Two  of  the  Imperial  Guards,  named  Norishige  and  Nori- 
kazu,  now  advanced  with  bows  and  arrows  to  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  [leading  from  the  courtyard  up  to  the  hall  where 
the  Mikado  held  his  court].  Shinsei,  turning  to  them, 
explained  the  circumstances,  and  told  them  to  have  a 
shot  at  this  youngster. 

“Now,  these  two  guards  were  originally  soldiers  of 
the  Emperor  Shirakawa,  and  skilled  archers.  When 
Gotoba  no  In  came  to  the  throne  they  were  enlisted 
in  the  Imperial  Guards.  Once  the  Mikado  gave  them 


BAKIN 


357 


a target  of  3J  feet  in  diameter,  telling  them  to  shoot 
away  its  centre.  The  order  was  given  at  the  hour  of 
the  Serpent  [ten  o'clock],  and  the  target  was  returned 
without  its  centre  at  the  hour  of  the  Rat  [two  o'clock]. 
‘Yoyu  himself  could  do  no  better,'  exclaimed  everybody 
in  admiration.  These  men  were  now  advanced  in  years, 
but  their  vigour  had  not  failed.  Even  my  Lord  Yorinaga 
thought  that  Tametomo,  had  he  six  arms,  could  never 
escape  the  arrows  of  such  archers.  He  could  no  longer 
bear  to  look  on,  and,  turning  to  Shinsei,  said,  * Tame- 
tomo, though  he  has  a grown-up  appearance,  is  still,  so 
to  speak,  a yellow-mouthed  boy.  Even  a joke  should 
have  some  relation  to  the  person  it  is  practised  on.  This 
conduct  is  most  unlike  Shinsei.'  Then  turning  to  Tame- 
yoshi  [the  boy's  father],  he  advised  him  to  retire  at  once 
and  take  his  son  with  him.  Tameyoshi,  who  up  till  now 
had  remained  silent,  replied  with  deep  respect,  ‘ Tame- 
tomo is  only  twelve,  but  he  is  no  longer  a baby.  If  he 
does  not  stand  the  test  on  this  occasion,  I would  call  it 
worse  than  to  turn  his  back  on  the  enemy.  I could  bear 
the  loss  of  one  son  without  regret.  What  I should  hate 
would  be  to  disgrace  the  soldier-fame  of  the  house  of 
Gen,  established  for  many  generations.  I earnestly 
beseech  your  Lordship  to  grant  your  permission,  and 
allow  the  matter  to  proceed  as  Shinsei  wishes.' 

“ Yorinaga  offered  no  further  opposition.  Tametomo 
was  delighted,  and  addressed  Shinsei  as  follows  : ‘Nori- 
shige  and  Norikazu  are  peerless  bowmen.  To  be  a target 
for  their  shafts  is  an  inappreciable  boon.  But  if  I fail  to 
seize  their  arrows  my  life  will  end  in  a moment.  I am 
therefore  placing  it  in  your  ha$ids.  What  will  you  give  me 
if  I succeed  in  catching  their  arrows  ? ' Shinsei  smiled. 

‘ If  you  succeed,  this  head  of  mine  shall  be  your  recom- 
24 


358  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

pense.  Shinsei  belongs  to  the  Gate  of  Buddha,  and 
should  you  now  be  slain,  he  will  not  continue  his  revenge 
after  your  death.'  Tametomo  paid  no  attention  to  this 
taunt,  but  rushed  down  into  the  larger  courtyard  and 
stood  up  at  the  . distance  of  a bowshot.  . . . The  two 
archers  took  two  arrows  each,  and  stood  over  against 
hinio  Not  only  the  sovereign  but  all  present  wrung  their 
hands  till  they  perspired,  expecting  every  moment  to  see 
Tametomo’s  life  fade  faster  than  the  clear  dew  beneath 
the  sunbeams.  Norishige  fitted  an  arrow  to  his  bow, 
and  drawing  it  till  it  bent  into  a full  moon,  let  fly  with 
an  accompanying  shout.  With  his  right  hand  Tametomo 
caught  the  arrow  in  the  nick  of  time,  while  with  his  left 
he  stopped  the  shaft  which  Norikazu  the  next  moment 
shot  at  him  just  as  it  flew  close  to  his  heart.  ‘ A miss  ! ’ 
exclaimed  the  two  archers,  disappointed.  ‘We  don’t 
want  to  kill  him,  but  this  time  he  won’t  catch  our 
arrows.’  They  drew  their  bows  together,  and  watching 
a proper  moment,  let  fly  with  a whiz.  One  arrow  Tame- 
tomo stayed  by  entangling  it  in  the  sleeve  of  his  garment ; 
but  as  he  had  no  other  means  of  catching  the  second,  he 
seized  it  firmly  between  his  teeth,  and  at  once  crunched 
its  head  to  atoms.  All  this  was  done  with  a rapidity 
which  may  be  compared  to  the  flickering  air  dancing 
over  the  hot  ground,  or  to  the  lightning’s  flash.  To  all 
the  spectators  it  seemed  more  than  human.  They  felt  as 
if  intoxicated.  It  was  beyond  all  praise,  and  no  one  said 
a word.  Tametomo  flung  aside  the  arrows  to  right  and 
left.  ' Now,  your  Reverence,  you  will  be  so  good  as 
to  give  me  your  head,’  he  cried,  and  springing  up  the 
stairs,  was  about  to  take  hold  of  Shinsei,  when  his  father, 
Tameyoshi,  interfered.” 

Tametomo  has  to  leave  Kioto  for  political  reasons.  He 


BAKIN 


359 


goes  clown  to  Kiushiu,  where  he  has  a number  of  surpris- 
ing adventures.  He  becomes  possessed  of  a wonderful 
crane,  and  an  equally  remarkable  tame  wolf.  A strange 
hunter,  who  has  neither  bow  nor  shafts,  but  who  brings 
down  his  prey  by  stones  flung  with  marvellous  precision 
to  an  incredible  distance,  attaches  himself  to  his  service. 
With  him  he  proceeds  to  Loochoo,  where,  among  other 
adventures,  he  falls  over  a cliff  “ several  thousand  feet” 
to  the  bottom.  He  is  a little  stunned,  but  walks  home 
afterwards  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  He  subsequently 
goes  to  Hachijo  and  other  islands  off  the  Bay  of  Yedo, 
and  then  again  to  Loochoo,  where  the  principal  events  of 
the  story  take  place. 

Bakin’s  Seiyuki,  or  “Journey  to  the  West”  (1806),  is 
not  an  original  work,  but  an  adaptation  of  the  well- 
known  Chinese  romance  Siyufci,  in  which  a Buddhist 
ecclesiastic,  attended  by  a magician-monkey  and  a semi- 
human hog,  goes  to  India  from  China  in  order  to 
procure  Buddhist  scriptures.  It  is  full  of  supernatural 
occurrences  from  beginning  to  end,1  and  is  wholly  lack- 
ing in  human  interest. 

He  also  translated  the  Shu i-hsii-cK uan  ( Sui-ko-den  in 
Japanese),  a much  more  amusing  Chinese  story,  which 
fills  over  two  thousand  pages  of  small  print  in  the 
modern  Japanese  edition.  The  influence  of  these  and 
other  Chinese  romances  is  very  noticeable  in  the  works 
of  Bakin  and  his  school. 

The  Nanka  no  Yume  (1807)  is  a story  of  fairyland  in 
the  Chinese  manner. 

The  Shichiya  no  Kura  (“  Pawnbroker’s  Store  ”),  1810. — 


1 An  episode  of  this  story  has  been  dramatised  in  Japan.  A version  of 
this  in  the  Ingoldsby  legend  style  is  given  in  M‘Clatchie’s  Japanese  Plays 
Versified. 


360  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

In  this  work  a pawnbroker  lying  awake  at  night  hears 
a noise  in  his  storehouse.  He  peeps  in  and  sees  the 
pledges  deposited  there  assembled  in  conclave.  Each 
tells  its  story. 

The  Musobidye  Kosho  Monogatari 1 is  an  allegorical  novel 
in  which  the  hero  visits  the  Land  of  Childhood,  the  Land 
of  Lust,  the  Land  of  Drunkenness,  the  Land  of  Avarice, 
the  Village  of  Lies,  the  Village  of  Sinful  Desires,  the 
Village  of  Grief,  and  the  Village  of  Pleasure.  The  idea 
is  borrowed  from  the  older  work  Wasobidye , noticed  in 
a previous  chapter.  It  is  very  learned,  intensely  moral, 
and  insufferably  tedious.  The  same  criticism  will  apply 
to  the  Shichiya  no  Kura . 

The  most  famous  of  Japanese  novels  is  the  enormous 
work  entitled  Hakkende?i.  Begun  in  1814,  it  was  not 
finished  until  1841.  In  its  original  form  it  consisted  of 
one  hundred  and  six  volumes,  and  even  in  the  modern 
reprint  it  forms  four  thick  volumes  of  nearly  three 
thousand  pages. 

The  Hakkenden  (“  Story  of  the  Eight  Dogs  ”)  narrates 
the  adventures  and  exploits  of  eight  heroes  of  semi- 
canine parentage,  who  represent  the  eight  cardinal 
virtues.  After  a perusal  of  some  hundreds  of  pages  of 
this  work  I can  only  express  my  amazement  at  its  extra- 
ordinary popularity  in  Japan.  It  is  full  of  physical  and 
moral  impossibilities,  and,  worse  still,  is  often  pedantic 
and  wearisome.  Yet  it  was  greedily  bought  up  by  the 
public.  The  wood-engravers  came  daily  for  copy,  and 
as  soon  as  a part  was  ready  it  was  printed  off  in  an 


1 This  work  has  been  translated  into  English  by  L.  Mordwin  (Yokohama, 
1881).  An  English  version  of  Bakin’s  Kuma  no  tayema  ainayo  no  t suki , by 
Edward  Greey,  was  published  in  Boston  in  1886.  A French  translation  of  his 
Okoma  appeared  in  Paris  in  1883. 


BAKIN 


361 

edition  of  ten  thousand  copies,  creating  a demand  for 
paper  which,  we  are  told,  appreciably  affected  the 
market-price  of  that  commodity. 

In  addition  to  his  novels,  Bakin  wrote  a miscellany 
entitled  Yenseki  Zcisshi,  which  gives  interesting  informa- 
tion on  such  subjects  as  folk-lore  and  popular  supersti- 
tions. His  Gendo  Hogen  is  another  work  of  a somewhat 
similar  character.  He  also  wrote  an  account  of  a journey 
to  Kioto  in  1802,  which  was  published  long  after  his 
death. 

Bakin's  writings  have  some  obvious  merits.  They 
prove,  sometimes  only  too  conclusively,  that  he  was  a 
man  of  great  learning,  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
history,  religion,  literature,  and  folk-lore  both  of  China 
and  Japan.  His  style  is  usually  flowing,  perspicuous, 
and  elegant,  and  he  possesses  a command  of  the  re- 
sources of  his  own  tongue  unique  among  his  contem- 
poraries. His  language  is  a happy  medium  between  the 
purism  of  such  writers  as  Motoori  and  the  semi-Chinese 
jargon  of  the  later  Kangakusha.  It  is  honourable  to  him 
that  at  a time  when  pornography  was  the  rule  rather 
than  the  exception  with  writers  of  fiction,  his  writings  are 
free  from  all  indecency  of  language,  and  are  invariably 
moral  in  their  tendency.  They  alone  were  excluded 
from  the  sweeping  prohibitive  measure  directed  against 
light  literature  by  the  Shogun's  Government  in  1842. 

Perhaps  the  quality  which  most  strikes  European 
readers  of  Bakin's  novels  is  his  prodigious  fertility  of  in- 
vention. The  number  and  variety  of  surprising  incidents 
with  which  they  are  crowded  can  have  few  parallels.  On 
the  other  hand,  his  faults  are  as  glaring  as  his  merits  are 
conspicuous.  For  the  profusion  of  incidents  with  which 
he  crowds  his  pages,  he  has  recourse  to  his  memory  as 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


362 

well  as  to  his  invention;  and,  what  is  worse,  he  constantly 
overleaps  the  bounds  of  possibility  to  an  extent  which 
tries  the  patience  of  the  most  indulgent  reader.  The 
deus  cx  machind , in  the  shape  of  a ghost,  demon,  or 
supernaturally  gifted  animal,  is  in  far  too  frequent  re- 
quisition. His  moral  ideals  are  of  the  common  con- 
ventional type  of  his  day  and  country,  the  product  of 
the  teachings  of  China  grafted  on  a Japanese  stock.  His 
power  of  delineating  character  is  extremely  limited,  and 
reminds  us  very  much  of  the  portrait-painting  of  Japanese 
pictorial  art.  He  has  little  or  no  humour,  and  his  wit  is 
mainly  of  the  verbal  kind.  The  sentiment  of  love  is  dealt 
with  by  him  in  a way  which  is  to  us  very  unsatisfactory. 
While  he  can  describe  the  mischief  produced  by  un- 
lawful passion,  and  wifely  fidelity  and  devotion  are  his 
frequent  themes,  such  things  as  the  gradual  growth  of 
the  sentiment  in  man  or  woman,  the  ennobling  influence 
of  a pure  love,  and  all  the  more  delicate  shades  of  feeling 
are  wholly  neglected  by  him.  The  pathos  which  native 
admirers  find  in  his  works  fails  to  move  his  European 
readers,  although  they  are  not  insensible  to  the  same 
quality  in  other  Japanese  authors.  In  short,  human 
nature  as  depicted  by  Bakin  is  far  too  sophisticated  to 
appeal  to  our  sympathies.  He  shows  us  men  and  women 
as  they  might  be  if  constructed  on  principles  derived 
from  the  Chinese  sages  and  their  Japanese  expositors, 
and  goes  for  his  material  to  books  rather  than  to  real 
life.  It  is  characteristic  of  him,  that  unlike  many  of  the 
dramatists  and  novelists  of  his  time,  he  avoids  the  common 
speech  for  his  dialogue,  and  confines  himself  entirely  to 
the  more  stilted  literary  language. 

Bakin’s  style,  which  is  his  strong  point,  is-  occasionally 
disfigured  by  lapses  into  fine  writing  adorned  with  pivot- 


BAKIN 


363 

words1  and  other  artifices  of  Japanese  rhetoric  irritating 
to  all  plain-minded  people.  Nor  can  he  always  resist  the 
temptation  of  bestowing  on  his  readers  tedious  displays 
of  his  erudition,  or  of  introducing  foreign  or  obsolete 
words  not  understanded  of  the  people. 

It  may  be  a question  whether  the  rhythmical  character 
of  much  that  Bakin  has  written  is  a merit  or  a defect.  It 
results  from  the  more  or  less  regular  alternation  of  five 
and  seven  syllable  phrases  so  often  referred  to,  and  pro- 
duces much  the  same  effect  as  the  blank  verse  to  which 
some  English  novelists  are  addicted.  Bakin  borrowed 
it  from  the  popular  dramatists  of  the  preceding  century  ; 
but  while  it  is  obviously  in  its  proper  place  on  the  stage, 
where  the  words  are  chanted  to  a musical  accompani- 
ment, it  seems  a more  doubtful  kind  of  ornament  in  an 
ordinary  romance.  Japanese  critics  have  an  unqualified 
admiration  for  this  feature  of  Bakin's  works,  and  suggest 
that  it  entitles  the  Hakkenden  to  be  classed  among  epic 
poems. 


1 The  more  frivolous  of  my  readers  will  perhaps  pardon  the  following 
attempt  to  give  an  example  of  the  sort  of  thing  which  we  might  have  if  the 
pivot  style  were  adopted  in  English.  It  illustrates  the  mode  in  which  Japanese 
novelists  and  dramatists  frequently  slur  over  the  transition  from  one  scene 
to  another  by  a use  of  this  device  ; something  on  the  same  principle  as  their 
artists  introduce  a golden  mist  between  different  parts  of  the  landscape  in  order 
to  disguise  defects  of  perspective. 


“ The  sun  went  down,  and  the  welcome,  the  thrice- wished  for,  the  most 
fair,  the  best  beloved  sought  a well-earned  repose.  On  the  morrow  he 

rose  from  his  couch  at  <^^nned  his  armour  and  sallied  forth  in  quest  of 
fresh  adventuresome  as  was  his  bold  spirit,  his  courage  was  now  to  be  put  to  a 
testy  old  of  meat  as  an  egg-shaped  domes,  slender  minarets,  and  square- 

built  towers  rose  in  picturesque  confusion  from  the  summit  of  a hill  where 
dwelt,”  &c. , &c. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


364 

It  may  be  thought  that  the  above  is  too  low  an  esti- 
mate of  a writer  whose  enormous  popularity  with  all 
classes  of  his  own  countrymen  is  unquestionable.  I 
therefore  append  the  judgment  of  the  authors  of  the 
only  native  History  of  Japanese  Literature.  It  will  en- 
able the  reader  to  correct  any  injustice  which  may  have 
been  done  by  the  barbarous  Western  critic. 

“ Bakin  was  a man  of  immense  erudition.  His  flow  of 
ideas  was  profuse.  When  he  took  up  his  pen,  a thousand 
words  were  quickly  formed,  long  chapters  fell  from  his 
hand.  He,  nevertheless,  from  time  to  time,  used  deep 
thought  and  mature  reflection,  giving  profound  atten- 
tion to  plot  and  construction.  His  pen  darted  hither 
and  thither,  following  his  thoughts  wherever  they  went, 
accompanying  his  sentiments  wherever  they  turned  them- 
selves. In  describing  men  and  events,  his  style  changed 
with  the  change  of  subject.  Many  there  have  been  in 
ancient  and  modern  times  who  gave  their  attention  to 
style,  each  of  whom  has  his  own  particular  merits.  Some 
excel  in  depicting  scenes  of  grief  and  affliction,  some  of 
gladness  and  jollity,  while  others  possess  unrivalled  gifts 
of  indignant  or  satirical  language.  But  how  many  are 
there  who,  like  Bakin,  can  build  on  so  vast  a scale, 
and  include  within  their  scope  the  billows  of  mankind 
with  all  their  varied  capacities  and  qualities  ? How 
many  possess  the  styles  fitted  for  this  purpose  wherein 
are  seen  ever  and  anon  magical  things  which  far  tran- 
scend our  comprehension  ? In  short,  Bakin  comprises 
in  himself  the  best  points  of  many  men.  We  see  in 
him  numerous  resemblances  to  Shakespeare.  It  is  not 
only  women  and  children,  tradespeople  and  peasants, 
who  admire  him.  Even  educated  gentlemen  are  fre- 
quently moved  to  tears  or  laughter,  or  made  to  gnash 


TANEHIKO  365 

their  teeth  and  strain  their  arms  [with  rage]  by  his 
writings." 

That  there  is  some  truth  in  this  I am  not  con- 
cerned to  deny.  I nevertheless  venture  the  prediction 
that  when  the  Japanese  people  have  more  completely 
shaken  off,  as  they  are  doing  every  year,  the  Chinese 
influences  which  have  moulded  their  character  and 
formed  their  tastes  for  centuries,  Bakin’s  heroes  and 
heroines  will  appear  to  them  as  grotesque  and  unreal 
as  they  do  to  us.  His  works  will  then  be  relegated  to 
the  same  limbo  which  contains  the  romances  of  chivalry 
so  dear  to  Europe  before  Cervantes,  and  be  regarded 
merely  as  a document  of  a passing  phase  of  the  national 
development. 

The  best  known  of  Bakin's  contemporaries  is  Riutei 
Tanehiko  (1783-1842),  a Samurai  of  the  Tokugawa  house, 
from  which  he  received  an  annual  allowance  of  two 
hundred  bales  of  rice.  Like  Kioden,  he  was  in  early 
life  an  artist.  He  also  practised  Haikai  writing  with 
some  degree  of  success.  As  a writer  of  fiction  he  is 
best  known  for  his  romantic  novels ; but  he  also  pub- 
lished stories  in  dramatic  form  ( shohonjidate ),  meant  only 
for  reading,  and  not  for  the  stage.  Another  kind  of 
novel,  of  which  he  wrote  a few  volumes,  was  the  ninjdbon 
or  “ sentiment  book,"  which  will  be  noticed  presently. 
He  was  also  the  author  of  several  works  which  are  of  a 
useful  character,  but  have  no  pretensions  to  be  regarded 
as  literature. 

Among  his  novels  may  be  mentioned  the  Awa  no 
Naruto  (1807),  the  Asamagatake  Omokage  Zdshi  (1808), 
and  its  continuation  the  Shnjaku  Monogatari  (1812). 
The  plot  of  the  last  two  works  is  taken  from  an  old 
play,  and  the  scene  is  in  the  fourteenth  century. 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


366 

Tanehiko’s  principal  work,  the  Inaka  Genji , “A  Rustic 
Genji  ” (in  ninety  volumes),  is  an  imitation  of  the  Genji 
Monogatari,  the  well-known  romance  of  the  Heian  period. 
It  was  a great  success,  and  other  authors,  by  choosing 
titles  which  included*  the  word  Genji,  endeavoured  to 
persuade  the  public  that  their  works  were  of  a similar 
character.  In  1842  the  Shogun’s  Government  took 
measures  to  suppress  publications  of  an  immoral  tend- 
ency. The  hiaka  Genji  was  considered  objectionable  on 
this  score,  and  Tanehiko  received  a private  intimation 
that  he  had  better  give  up  writing  novels.  He  was  only 
too  glad  to  escape  so  cheaply,  as  any  official  condemna- 
tion would  have  entailed  the  loss  of  his  allowance  from 
the  Government. 

I have  not  had  access  to  this  work.  It  is  much  ad- 
mired by  native  critics  for  its  style  and  sentiment ; and 
the  illustrations,  to  which  Tanehiko  attached  great  im- 
portance, set  an  example  to  which  was  due  a marked 
improvement  in  Japanese  wood-engraving. 

Tanehiko’s  shohonj idate  or  dramatic  stories  differ 
chiefly  from  ordinary  Japanese  novels  by  the  prepon- 
derance of  dialogue  over  narrative,  and  by  the  choice 
cf  the  ordinary  spoken  language  for  the  speeches  of  the 
characters.  They  are  also  more  realistic,  and  vary  less 
violently  from  actual  living  manners,  than  the  romantic 
novel. 

The  great  defect  of  his  books  is  their  want  of  human 
interest.  Like  Kioden,  Bakin,  and  the  other  novelists  of 
the  romantic  school,  Tanehiko  accepts  implicitly  the 
conventional  standards  of  honour  and  morality,  and 
deviates  little  from  the  types  of  character  which  were  the 
common  property  of  the  writers  of  his  dayt  Indeed  he 
carries  unreal  sentiment  and  artificial  rules  of  conduct 


SAMBA  367 

to  a more  fantastic  extreme  than  either  of  his  rivals. 
Human  nature  is  travestied  by  him  in  such  a manner  as 
to  be  no  longer  recognisable.  How  can  one  take  any 
interest  in  a heroine  of  fifteen  years  of  age  who  sets  out 
to  travel  through  Japan  in  quest  of  her  father's  murderer 
with  the  intention  of  making  love  to  him  and  thus  find- 
ing an  opportunity  for  putting  him  to  death  ? Or  in  the 
murderer  himself,  who  is  a magician  with  the  power  of 
making  himself  invisible,  but  who  finds  no  better  use 
for  such  a gift  than  to  rob  unsuspecting  travellers  ? In 
another  work  of  Tanehiko’s  the  hero  submits  patiently  to 
be  insulted  and  beaten  in  the  presence  of  his  inamorata 
by  her  temporary  owner,  and  then  indemnifies  himself 
by  waylaying  his  enemy  in  a lonely  spot  with  the  inten- 
tion of  assassinating  him.  It  is  true  that  the  author  tries 
to  save  his  credit  a little  by  making  him,  in  the  first  place, 
discharge  his  money  obligations  to  his  intended  victim. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Tanehiko’s  writings  should  be 
marred  by  so  vital  a defect.  They  contain  many  interest- 
ing glimpses  of  manners  and  customs  in  a state  of  society 
which  has  now  passed  away,  and  his  style,  when  not  too 
ornate,  is  graceful  and  pleasing. 

Shikitei  Samba  (1775-1822)- — his  numerous  aliases 
may  be  omitted — was  a native  of  Yedo.  He  belonged 
to  the  trading  class,  and  in  his  boyhood  was  apprenticed 
to  a bookseller.  He  subsequently  opened  a book-shop 
on  his  own  account.  His  first  work  was  written  in  1794, 
when  he  was  in  his  nineteenth  year.  In  1799  he  was 
reported  to  the  authorities  by  some  person  who  objected 
to  the  immoral  tendency  of  his  writings.  His  parents 
and  relatives,  alarmed  on  his  account,  urged  him  to 
* give  up  authorship,  but  he  refused  to  do  so.  He  was 
a prolific  writer.  Among  his  numerous  publications 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


368 

he  is  now  remembered  chiefly  by  two — the  Ukiyo-furo 
and  the  Ukiyo-toko . The  Ukiyo-furo  was  first  published 
in  1809  ; but  the  blocks  having  been  burnt,  a second 
enlarged  edition  was  brought  out  in  1811.  The  name  of 
this  work  means  “The  World’s  Bath-house."  It  consists 
of  a series  of  realistic  sketches  of  everyday  life,  something 
in  the  manner  of  Mr.  Anstey’s  Voces  Populi,  a certain  unity 
being  given  to  them  by  assigning  the  dialogues  to  the 
frequenters  of  a public  bath-house — an  institution  well 
known  in  Japan  as  a centre  of  gossip  for  the  neighbour- 
hood. In  the  preface  Samba  protests  that  he  writes  in 
the  interests  of  morality.  “ In  bringing  up  children,"  he 
says,  “we  give  them  bitter  pills  and  sweet  malt-extract. 
The  Chinese  classics  resemble  the  pills,  while  novels 
and  stories  correspond  to  the  sweet  stuff.  Both  convey 
instruction,  though  in  different  ways."  The  edifying 
character  of  the  Ukiyo-furo  is  not  very  obvious  to  a 
casual  observer,  but  it  is  undeniably  amusing.  Some 
Japanese  critics  rank  it  even  before  the  Hizakurige.  If 
any  one  cares  to  know  what  subjects  are  discussed  by 
Japanese  of  the  middle  and  lower  classes  when  they 
meet,  he  will  find  ample  means  of  gratifying  his  curio- 
sity in  this  work.  Here  is  a conversation  between  two 
matrons  at  the  bath-house  : — 

Mrs.  A.  Well ! I have  tried  lots  of  servants,  but  I find  that 
instead  of  their  serving  you,  it  is  you  who  have  to  serve  them. 

Mrs.  B . Really  ? But  I thought  the  maid  who  was  with  you 
till  last  year  was  such  an  amiable  girl 

Mrs.  A.  Yes,  and  she  was  bound  over  to  me  for  a long  term  ; 
but  as  she  had  a good  offer,  I married  her  off  and  let  her  go. 

Mrs.  B.  That  was  very  nice  of  you. 

Mrs.  A.  The  one  I have  now  has  such  a temper  that  I don’t' 
know  what  to  do.  If  I reprove  her  she  gets  into  a rage  and 


IKKU 


369 

smashes  everything,  and  if  I humour  her  it  makes  her  so  con- 
ceited. The  worst  of  it  is  that  when  I lie  down  to  sleep  I cannot 
get  that  face  of  hers  out  of  my  mind. 

Mrs.  B.  Our  hussy  Rin  is  just  as  bad.  She  is  always  putting 
herself  forward,  and  talking  when  she  is  not  wanted.  So  she  gets 
the  place  to  herself,  and  as  soon  as  she  has  cleared  away  the 
breakfast  things  she  goes  upstairs  and  spends  half  the  day  doing 
her  hair.  Then,  until  I tell  her  to  get  dinner  ready,  she  is  always 
going  out,  as  she  says,  to  hang  out  the  washing,  but  really  for 
gossip.  There  is  not  a day  that  she  does  not  excite  herself  about 
matters  of  course,  crying  and  laughing  over  them,  but  grudging 
to  take  pains  with  her  needful  work.  She  will  take  up  a pail,  and 
with  “ I am  going  to  fetch  water,  ma’am,”  off  she  goes  to  the  well, 
and  does  not  get  back  for  a couple  of  hours.  No  wonder  ! When 
she  is  not  making  a fool  of  herself  with  all  the  young  men  in  the 
row,  she  joins  girls  like  herself  in  abusing  the  masters  and  mis- 
tresses. The  other  day  I wondered  what  they  were  talking  about, 
so  I slipped  behind  the  outhouse,  and  there  she  was  praising  her 
last  master,  &c.,  &c. 

The  Ukiyo-toko  (“The  World's  Barber's  Shop")  is  of  a 
similar  character.  Other  works  of  Samba  are  the  Kokon 
Hiakunin  Baka  (“  One  Hundred  Fools  Ancient  and 
Modern")  and  Shijiuhachi  Kuse  (“The  Forty-eight 
Humours  "). 

His  works  had  a great  popularity  and  have  been  often 
imitated. 

J ippensha  Ikku  ( — r — ?-i83i)  was  the  son  of  a petty 
official  of  Suruga.  His  early  life  was  very  unsettled.  We 
hear  of  his  holding  small  appointments  in  Yedo  and 
Osaka,  and  his  name  appears  with  those  of  two  others 
on  the  title-page  of  a play  written  for  an  Osaka  theatre. 
He  was  three  times  married.  On  the  first  two  occasions 
he  was  received  into  families  as  irimuko , that  is,  son-in- 
law and  heir.  In  Japan  such  situations  are  notoriously 


370  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

precarious  and  unsatisfactory.  “ Don’t  become  an  iri- 
muko  ,”  says  the  proverb,  u if  you  possess  one  go  of  rice.’' 
Ikku  did  not  remain  long  with  either  of  these  wTives.  Very 
likely  his  parents-in-law  objected  to  his  Bohemian  habits 
and  dismissed  him.  In  his  third  marriage  he  was  careful 
not  to  sacrifice  his  freedom.  Ikku’s  biographers  relate 
many  stories  of  his  eccentricities.  Once  when  on  a visit  to 
a wealthy  citizen  of  Yedo  he  took  a great  fancy  to  a bath- 
tub. His  host  presented  it  to  him,  and  Ikku  thereupon 
insisted  on  carrying  it  home  through  the  streets,  inverted 
over  his  head,  confounding  with  his  ready  wit  the  pas- 
sengers who  objected  to  his  blindly  driving  against  them. 

One  New  Year’s  Day  a publisher  came  to  pay  him  the 
usual  visit  of  ceremony.  Ikku  received  him  with  great 
courtesy,  and  prevailed  on  him,  somewhat  to  his  be- 
wilderment, to  have  a bath.  No  sooner  had  his  guest 
retired  for  this  purpose  than  Ikku  walked  off  to  make  his 
own  calls  in  the  too  confiding  publisher’s  ceremonial 
costume,  Ikku  not  being  possessed  of  one  of  his  own. 
On  his  return,  some  hours  later,  he  was  profuse  in  his 
thanks,  but  said  not  a word  of  apology. 

When  he  was  engaged  in  composition  he  squatted  on 
the  floor  in  a room  where  books,  pens,  inkstone,  dinner- 
tray,  pillow,  and  bedding  lay  about  in  confusion,  not  an 
inch  of  free  space  being  left.  Into  this  disorderly  sanctum 
no  servant  was  ever  admitted. 

Ikku’s  ready  money  went  too  often  to  pay  for  drink, 
and  his  house  lacked  even  the  scanty  furniture  which  is 
considered  necessary  in  Japan.  He  therefore  hung  his 
walls  with  pictures  of  the  missing  articles.  On  festival 
days  he  satisfied  the  requirements  of  custom,  and  pro- 
pitiated the  gods  by  offerings  of  the  same  unsubstantial 
kind. 


IKKU 


37i 


On  his  deathbed  he  left  instructions  that  his  body 
should  not  be  washed,  but  cremated  just  as  it  was,  and 
enjoined  on  his  pupils  to  plac2  along  with  it  certain 
closed  packets  which  he  entrusted  to  them.  The  funeral 
prayers  having  been  read,  the  torch  was  applied,  when 
presentlv,  to  the  astonishment  of  his  sorrowing  friends 
and  pupils,  a series  of  explosions  took  place,  and  a dis- 
play of  shooting  stars  issued  from  the  corpse.  The 
precious  packets  contained  fireworks. 

Ikku’s  first  work,  exclusive  of  the  dramatic  piece  above 
mentioned,  was  published  in  1796  at  Yedo,  where  he  had 
then  been  settled  for  six  or  seven  years.  Others  followed, 
but  it  is  useless  to  enumerate  them,  as  their  fame  has 
been  eclipsed  by  that  of  the  Hizakurige , the  great  work 
with  which  Ikku's  name  is  always  associated. 

The  Hizakurige  was  published  in  twelve  parts,  the  first 
of  which  appeared  in  1802,  the  last  not  until  1822.  It 
occupies  a somewhat  similar  position  in  Japan  to  that 
of  the  Pickwick  Papers  in  this  country,  and  is  beyond 
question  the  most  humorous  and  entertaining  book  in 
the  Japanese  language.  Hizakurige  means  “knee-chest- 
nut-horse,” the  Japanese  equivalent  for  our  “shank's 
mare.”  It  is  the  history  of  the  travels,  mostly  on  foot,  as 
the  title  indicates,  of  two  worthies  named  Yajirobei  and 
Kidahachi  along  the  Tokaido  and  other  great  highways 
of  Japan,  and  of  their  manifold  adventures  and  mishaps. 
Yajirobei,  Yajiro,  or  Yaji,  as  he  is  indifferently  called,  is 
an  elderly  man  of  the  shopkeeper  class,  whom  some 
Japanese  insist  on  identifying  with  Ikku  himself.  There 
are  points  of  resemblance,  but  this,  like  most  such  identi- 
fications, is  in  reality  fallacious.  Indeed  there  is  a passage 
in  the  fifth  part  of  the  Hizakurige  which  seems  intended 
as  a repudiation  of  the  suggestion.  Yaji  is  here  repre- 


372  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

sented  as  involved  in  cruel  embarrassments  by  an  attempt 
to  impose  himself  on  some  provincial  virtuosos  as  the 
renowned  poet  and  novelist  Jippensha  Ikku.  Ikku  says 
elsewhere  that  Yaji  was  intended  as  a tada  no  oyaji  or 
“ ordinary  elderly  man."  But  in  truth  he  is  neither 
Jippensha  Ikku  nor  yet  a tada  no  oyaji . He  and  his 
younger  companion  belong  to  that  class  who  having 
never  lived  can  never  die.  They  are  humble  but  not 
unworthy  members  of  the  illustrious  fraternity  which 
includes  Falstaff,  Sancho  Panza,  Sam  Weller,  and  Tar- 
tarin — to  us  far  more  real  personages  than  any  originals 
which  may  have  supplied  hints  for  them. 

Yaji  and  Kida  are  by  no  means  heroes.  They  are 
cowardly,  superstitious,  and  impudent.  Lies,  “ gross  as 
a mountain,  open,  palpable,"  fall  from  their  lips  on  the 
smallest  provocation  or  in  mere  wantonness.  Yaji  has 
a certain  share  of  good  sense  and  bonhomie  which  goes 
some  way  to  redeem  his  character,  but  Kida  is  a fool 
positive  whose  idiotic  sallies  and  ill-advised  amorous 
schemes  are  continually  entangling  him  in  scrapes  from 
which  it  requires  all  the  wit  and  savoir  faire  of  his  elder 
companion  to  extricate  him.  Nor  is  Yaji,  from  a moral 
point  of  view,  much  better.  Both  are,  in  sooth,  shame- 
less wights,  whose  moral  principles  are  -on  a par  with 
those  of  Falstaff  or  Sir  Harry  Wildairs,  and  for  whose 
indecency  of  speech  and  conduct  even  Rabelais  hardly 
affords  an  adequate  comparison.  The  most  that  can  be 
said  for  them  is  that  their  grossness  is  the  grossness  of 
the  natural  uncultured  man,  and  not  the  con  amore  con- 
centrated filth  which  revolts  us  in  some  European  authors, 
and  that  with  two  continents  and  a wide  gulf  of  social 
and  racial  differences  intervening,  their  indecency  some- 
how creates  less  disgust  than  if  they  were  Englishmen 


IKKU.  373 

or  Frenchmen.  Still,  people  of  nice  taste  had  better  not 
read  the  Hizakurige. 

It  is  hopeless  by  translation  to  give  any  idea  of  the 
copious  flow  of  rollicking  humour  which  pervades  every 
page  of  this  really  wonderful  book.  Those  who  have 
read  it  will  not  forget  the  scene  in  a roadside  inn  where 
some  terrapins  laid  on  a shelf  overnight  come  out  when 
Yaji,  Kida,  and  their  party  are  all  sound  asleep,  and  in- 
sinuate themselves  among  the  bedding ; or  Kida's  misad- 
venture at  the  river  ford  with  the  two  blind  men  who  had 
agreed  that  one  should  carry  the  other  over  on  his  back. 
Yaji  cleverly  substitutes  himself,  and  so  crosses  over  dry- 
shod.  But  Kida,  in  endeavouring  to  follow  his  example, 
is  detected,  and  shot  off  in  mid-stream.  Then  there  is 
the  scene  in  which  a strolling  medium  (a  young  woman) 
delivers  to  Yaji  a terrific  but  untranslatable  message 
from  his  deceased  wife,  who  adds  a climax  to  his  fright 
by  proposing  to  come  and  pay  him  occasional  friendly 
visits  ; and  one  where  Yaji,  fancying  that  Kida  is  a fox 
which  has  taken  the  shape  of  his  friend,  belabours  him 
soundly  to  make  him  resume  his  natural  vulpine  form. 
Another  amusing  scene  is  one  in  which  the  owner  of  the 
pack-horse  which  Kida  is  riding,  meets  a man  to  whom 
the  animal  had  been  assigned  as  security  for  a debt. 
The  creditor  threatens  to  foreclose  then  and  there.  As 
the  negotiations  between  the  two  sway  backward  and 
forward,  Kida  is  made  alternately  to  mount  and  dismount, 
until  at  last  the  situation  is  cleared  by  the  horse  bolting 
with  debtor  and  creditor  in  hot  pursuit,  while  Kida  is 
left  bruised  and  shaken  on  the  ground  where  he  had 
fallen. 

The  great  drawback  to  the  fun  of  the  Hizakurige  is 
that  it  is  unrelieved  by  more  serious  matter.  Doubtless 
25 


374 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Bottom  the  weaver  and  Falstaff  would  still  be  amusing 
even  if  they  stood  by  themselves,  but  they  gain  immea- 
surably by  contrast  with  the  poetry  of  fairy-land  and  the 
stately  court  of  Theseus  in  the  one  case,  and  with  grave 
political  surroundings  on  the  other.  In  the  Hizakurige 
there  is  no  suggestion  of  serious  thought  or  feeling  ; all 
is  broad,  frequently  even  farcical  humour.  It  is,  how- 
ever, excellent  fooling  of  its  kind. 

There  can  be  no  greater  contrast  than  that  between 
Ikku  and  the  romantic  school  of  novelists.  He  repu- 
diates utterly  their  entire  equipment  of  fantastic  notions 
of  right  and  wrong,  artificial  sentiment,  supernatural 
interventions,  impossible  exploits,  and  euphuistic  fine- 
writing.  He  is  a realistic  writer  in  the  good  as  well  as 
in  the  bad  sense  of  the  word.  The  Hizakurige  is  a 
picture  of  real  life,  for  every  detail  of  which  Ikku  has 
drawn  on  his  own  observation.  We  know  that  he  actually 
travelled  through  the  places  which  are  the  scenes  of  his 
heroes’  exploits  ; but  even  if  there  were  no  record  of  the 
fact,  it  is  obvious  to  every  reader  who  knows  Japan. 
There  is  little  word-painting  or  description  of  scenery, 
but  the  human  life  of  the  great  highways  is  depicted  with 
photographic  accuracy,  and  with  a verve  and  humour 
which  no  mere  observation,  however  minute,  could  ever 
impart.  We  see  the  Daimio’s  train,  slow-moving,  silent, 
and  imposing — but  nevertheless  containing  a rowdy  ele- 
ment— and  hear  Yaji  and  Kida’s  very  free  criticisms  as 
they  squat  humbly  by  the  roadside  until  the  great  man 
has  passed.  The  religious  processions,  noisy  and  dis- 
orderly, are  treated  by  them  with  more  open  ridicule. 
We  meet  provincial  Samurai,  the  butt  of  the  more  quick- 
witted citizens  of  Yedo,  obsequious  innkeepers,  facile 
waiting-maids,  begging  priests,  Ronins,  Komuso  (criminals 


IKKU 


375 


of  the  Samurai  class  who  have  been  permitted  to  become 
priests,  and  who  lead  a wandering  life  with  their  faces 
wholly  concealed  under  immense  basket-hats),  pilgrims 
(who  nowadays  travel  by  excursion  trains  with  tickets 
available  for  two  months  from  date  of  issue),  boy  pilgrims 
to  the  shrines  of  Ise  with  all  the  precocious  shrewdness 
of  a gamin  or  a street  arab,  Tome-onna  or  female  touts 
who  beset  the  highway  near  their  master’s  inn  at  sun- 
down and  wheedle  or  hustle  the  traveller  into  it,  coolies 
with  their  degraded  dialect  (all  Ikku’s  personages  use  the 
language  and  speak  the  dialect  proper  to  them),  thieves, 
jugglers,  rustics,  ferrymen,  horse-boys,  and  many  more. 
Most  of  these  have  disappeared  for  ever,  but  they  still 
live  in  Ikku’s  pages  to  delight  many  a future  generation 
of  readers. 

It  has  been  said  that  there  are  no  terms  of  vulgar  abuse 
in  the  Japanese  language.  The  compliments  exchanged 
by  the  coolies  and  pack-horse  men  in  the  Hizakurige  are 
a sufficient  answer  to  this  rash  assertion.  There  is  more 
truth  in  the  statement  that  profane  language  is  unknown 
in  Japan.  A European  Yaji  and  Kida  would  certainly 
have  been  as  richly  supplied  with  terms  of  this  kind  as 
Ernulphus  or  our  armies  in  Flanders,  but  the  only  oath 
uttered  by  the  heroes  of  the  Hizakuvige  is  the  very  mild 
Namu  San  or  Namu  Sambo , that  is  to  say,  by  the  three 
holy  things,  namely,  Buddha,  the  Law,  and  the  Priest- 
hood. Paradoxical  though  it  may  appear,  this  is  pro- 
bably owing  to  the  want  of  any  very  deep-seated 
sentiment  of  piety  in  the  Japanese  nation.  Their  lan- 
guage is  equally  deficient  in  such  phrases  as  “ God 
bless  you,”  “Thank  God,”  and  “Adieu.” 


376 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


The  Ninjobon 

All  students  of  Japanese  literature  are  familiar  with 
the  Ninjobon  or  Sentiment  Book,  a species  of  novel 
which  flourished  most  in  the  third  and  fourth  decades 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  was  at  last  prohibited 
by  the  Government,  like  its  predecessor  and  model  the 
Share-bon. 

The  best  known  writer  of  this  class  of  story  was 
TameNAGA  Shunsui,  who  also  called  himself  (after  1829) 
Kiokuntei.  He  was  a pupil  of  Samba.  Shunsui  was  a 
bookseller  of  Yedo.  He  began  hiss  literary  career  with 
some  tales  of  an  unedifying  character,  which  he  styled 
Fujo  Kwanzen  no  Tame  (“  For  the  Encouragement  of 
Women  in  the  Paths  of  Virtue").  He  died  in  1842  whilst 
undergoing  a sentence  of  confinement  to  his  own  house 
in  handcuffs  for  publishing  works  of  a tendency  pre- 
judicial to  public  morals.  The  blocks  from  which  they 
were  printed  were  at  the  same  time  destroyed.  Even 
his  admirers  cannot  say  that  Shunsui’s  punishment  was 
altogether  unmerited. 

One  of  Shunsui’s  best  known  stories  is  the  Mume 
Koyomi  (“  Plum  Calendar "),  with  its  continuation  en- 
titled Shnnshoku  Tatsumi  no  Sono  (“  Spring  - Colour 
Eastern-Garden"),  which  appeared  in  1833.  It  is  a 
novel  of  low  life,  and  the  characters  are  singing-girls, 
harlots,  Ronins,  professional  jesters,  and  the  like.  Its 
morality  cannot  be  defended,  but  in  decency  of  lan- 
guage it  is  superior  to  the  Hizakurige , and  even  to  the 
Ukiyo-furo. 

The  Iroha  Bunko , which  is  considered  Shunsui’s  greatest 
work,  is  not  a typical  Ninjobon,  though  from  some  points 


SHUNSUI 


377 


of  view  it  belongs  to  this  class  of  literature.  It  is  one  of 
the  numerous  versions  of  the  story  of  the  revenge  of  the 
forty-seven  Ronins.  Few  worse  arranged  books  have 
ever  been  written.  The  scenes  of  which  it  is  composed 
have  no  sort  of  order,  chronological  or  otherwise,  and  in 
many  cases  have  no  obvious  connection  with  the  main 
action  of  the  book.  Shunsui,  in  writing  it,  seems  to  have 
had  two  objects  in  view,  irreconcilable  with  each  other. 
One  was  to  produce  a historical  narrative  (he  describes 
it  as  a true  record)  enriched  by  matter  drawn  from 
genuine  documents  ; the  other  to  enhance  the  interest 
of  the  story  by  the  addition  of  imaginative  details.  As 
a contribution  to  historical  research  the  Iroha  Bunko 
is  worthless.  It  is  not  always  possible  to  distinguish 
Shunsui  the  historian  from  Shunsui  the  romancist ; and 
in  order  to  comply  with  the  edict  forbidding  novelists  to 
meddle  with  real  personages  of  the  Yedo  period,  he  was 
obliged  to  garble  his  materials,  transferring  the  scene  of 
the  story  from  Yedo  to  Kamakura,  and  from  the  eight- 
eenth to  the  fourteenth  century,  and  altering  the  names 
of  the  characters.  In  this  he  was  only  following  the 
example  of  the  Chiushingura , the  famous  drama  which 
deals  with  the  same  subject.  The  judicious  reader  will 
skip  his  historical  disquisitions,  nor  care,  for  example,  to 
follow  him  in  discussing  the  question  of  the  precise  date 
when  shops  for  the  sale  of  buckwheat  vermicelli  were 
first  established  as  separate  institutions.  He  will  turn 
from  such  muda-banashi  (vain  talk),  as  Shunsui  himself 
calls  it,  to  the  scenes  where  he  abandons  his  facts,  and 
endeavours  by  the  help  of  a sympathetic  imagination 
to  realise  the  feelings  and  emotions  of  the  actors  in  the 
tragedy,  filling  in  their  surroundings,  supplying  them 
with  parents,  wives,  sweethearts,  or  children,  inventing 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


3/8 

romantic  incidents  and  passionate  speeches,  and,  in 
short,  converting  them  from  vaguely  outlined  person- 
ages of  history  into  real  men  and  women. 

The  great  service  rendered  by  Shunsui  and  his  fellow- 
composers  of  Ninjobon  was  to  recall  the  attention  of 
writers  and  readers  of  fiction  to  human  nature  as  the 
proper  subject  of  the  novelist’s  art.  Since  the  time  of 
Murasaki  no  Shikibu  this  branch  of  study  had  been 
sadly  neglected  in  Japan.  The  novelists  of  the  romantic 
school  were  too  much  occupied  with  sensational  situa- 
tions, hairbreadth  escapes,  and  supernatural  wonders,  to 
study  the  human  heart  with  its  affections  and  passions ; 
while  Ikku  and  Samba,  though  excellent  in  their  way, 
were  humourists  and  nothing  more. 

The  Ninjobon,  it  is  true,  do  not  show  us  human 
nature  at  its  best.  The  society  into  which  they  intro- 
duce the  reader  is  far  from  select,  and  the  morality  sadly 
defective.  But  the  vital  element  of  fiction  is  there.  We 
find  in  these  works  real  human  beings  depicted  in  such 
a way  that  we  can  follow  their  fortunes  with  interest, 
and  sympathise  with  them  in  their  joys  and  sorrows. 

The  dialogue  of  the  Ninjobon  is  in  the  ordinary  col- 
loquial language  of  Yedo,  the  narrative  portion  in  the 
written  style. 

Amongst  other  Ninjobon  may  be  mentioned  the  Tsuge 
no  Ogushi (1834),  by  Jippensha  Ikku  the  younger  ; Imose- 
dori  (n.  d.),  by  Tamenaga  Shunga,  a pupil  of  Shunsui; 
Musuine  Setsuyo  (1831)  and  Musume  Taiheiki  (1837),  by 
Kiokusanjin  ; and  Temari  Sannin  Musuine , by  Shotei 
Kinsui. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  Yedo  period  Japanese 
fiction  presents  no  feature  of  special  interest.  A good 
many  novels  were  produced  in  the  several  styles  de- 


WORKS  IN  CHINESE  379 

scribed  above,  but  there  was  no  new  departure  and  no 
writer  of  conspicuous  merit. 

Works  in  the  Chinese  Language 

During  the  Yedo  period  the  Chinese  language  held  a 
position  in  Japan  similar  to  that  of  Latin  in  Europe 
during  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  the  vehicle  of  all 
literature  of  a serious  kind,  and  more  especially  of  his- 
tory. Japanese  scholars  attained  to  great  skill  in  com- 
position in  the  literary  dialect  of  the  Han  dynasty,  a 
period  which  may  be  taken  as  corresponding  for  China 
to  the  Augustan  era  in  Rome. 

One  of  the  chief  historical  works  of  this  kind  was  the 
Dainihonshi , a history  of  Japan  from  the  accession  of 
the  first  Mikado,  Jimmu  Ten  no,  B.C..660,  to  the  abdica- 
tion of  Go  Komatsu  in  A.D.  1413,  which,  with  its  nume- 
rous addenda,  extends  to  one  hundred  volumes.  It  was 
written  by  a number  of  scholars  engaged  for  that  pur- 
pose by  Mitsukuni,  Prince  of  Mito,  and  was  completed 
about  1715,  although  not  printed  until  1851.  The  Daini- 
honshi  is  much  admired  for  its  concise  and  elegant  style. 

The  Nihon  Gwaishi,  which  was  brought  out  by  Rai 
Sanyo  in  1837,  is  probably  the  best  known  work  of  its 
class  in  Japan.  It  relates  the  history  of  the  Shogunate 
from  its  beginnings  in  the  twelfth  century  down  to  the 
establishment  of  the  Tokugawa  dynasty  of  Shoguns  under 
Iyeyasu  in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Both  this  and  the  last-named  work  are  invaluable  for  the 
study  of  Japanese  history;  but  they  present  few  attrac- 
tions to  ordinary  European  readers,  who  will  heartily 
concur  in  the  unflattering  estimate  of  the  Gwaishi  con- 
tained in  Mr.  Chamberlain’s  Things  Japanese. 


38°  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

Another  important  work  by  Rai  Sanyo  is  the  Nihon 
Seiki,  a history  of  Japan  in  sixteen  volumes. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  Yedo  period  there  was  a great 
falling  off  in  the  literary  use  of  the  Chinese  language  in 
Japan.  At  the  present  day  it  is  employed  only  for  a few 
special  purposes  similar  to  those  for  which  Latin  is  still 
resorted  to  in  Europe. 


BOOK  THE  SEVENTH 


TOKIO  PERIOD  (1867-1898) 


BOOK  THE  SEVENTH 


T0K10 1 PERIOD  (1867-1898) 


Some  Recent  Developments  under  European 
Influence 

The  first  half  of  the  present  century  was  a time  of  pro- 
found peace  in  Japan,  during  which  the  feudal  system, 
established  by  Tokugawa  Iyeyasu,  was  in  appearance  as 
flourishing  and  efficient  as  ever  ; but  indications  were 
not  altogether  wanting  that  it  was  already  tending  to  its 
downfall.  The  condition  of  the  peasantry  had  become 
very  unsatisfactory.  They  were  grievously  taxed  and 
oppressed  by  the  Daimios,  who  competed  with  one 
another  in  pomp  and  magnificence,  and  to  this  end 
maintained  large  numbers  of  sinecure  officials  and  idle 
retainers.  The  military  organisation  was  wholly  effete, 
as  some  collisions  with  British  and  Russian  men-of-war 
early  in  the  century  proved  very  clearly.  The  nation  had 
become  tired  of  over -government.  The  Shoguns,  for 
want  of  general  support,  were  obliged  to  relax  their 
control  over  the  Daimios,  the  more  powerful  of  whom 
began  to  assert  their  independence  in  a way  which  was 
fatal  to  the  maintenance  of  the  old  feudal  government. 

1 The  name  of  the  capital  was  changed  from  Yedo  to  Tokio  in  1869,  when 
the  Mikado  took  up  his  residence  there. 

383 


384  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

The  opening  of  Japan  to  foreign  commerce  in  1859 
precipitated  the  inevitable  struggle  between  the  decrepit 
Shogunate  and  its  recalcitrant  vassals.  It  resulted  in 
1867  in  the  complete  downfall  of  the  former,  and  the 
establishment  of  a new  political  organisation,  presided 
over  by  the  Mikado,  and  supported  by  the  chief  advisers 
of  the  Daimios  who  had  been  instrumental  in  restoring 
him  to  his  rightful  position  in  the  State,  so  long  usurped 
by  the  Shoguns. 

These  men,  who  combined  political  wisdom  with 
ardent  patriotism  in  no  ordinary  degree,  built  up  on  the 
ruins  of  the  Shogunate  the  new  system  of  government 
which  Japan  now  enjoys.  It  is  the  most  highly  central- 
ised and  efficient  that  the  country  has  ever  known,  and 
has  raised  it  to  an  unparalleled  height  of  power  and 
prosperity,  liberty  and  enlightenment. 

A very  large  share  in  this  result  was  due  to  the  influ- 
ence of  Western  ideas.  With  the  fall  of  the  Shogunate 
the  moral,  religious,  and  political  principles  on  which  it 
was  based  became  more  or  less  discredited,  and  the 
nation  turned  to  Europe  for  guidance.  The  great  poli- 
tical change  which  had  taken  place  produced  no  imme- 
diate results  so  far  as  the  literature  was  concerned.  The 
reorganisation  of  the  constitution,  the  reform  of  the  laws, 
the  formation  of  an  army  and  navy,  the  construction 
of  roads,  railways,  lighthouses,  and  telegraphs,  and  the 
establishment  of  a national  system  of  education  had 
first  to  be  attended  to.  But  the  visible  superiority  of 
Europe  in  all  such  matters  led  to  the  study  of  European, 
and  especially  English  books  as  sources  of  practical 
knowledge. 

Before  1867,  Dutch,  which  was  studied  by  interpreters, 
and  as  a means  of  acquiring  a knowledge  of  Western 


EUROPEAN  LEARNING 


385 

medicine,  was  the  only  European  language  known  to  the 
Japanese.  About  this  time  the  nation  was  seized  with  a 
passion  for  more  extensive  European  learning.  In  spite  of 
many  difficulties,  numbers  of  young  men  of  good  family 
made  their  way  to  Europe  or  America  for  study,  or  were 
not  ashamed  to  take  service  in  the  households  of  foreign 
residents  in  Japan  in  order  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
learning  English,  even  a slight  knowledge  of  which  was 
a sure  passport  to  official  positions  and  emoluments. 
The  school  of  foreign  languages  in  Tokio  received  sub- 
stantial Government  support,  and  flourished  greatly. 
Presently  a group  of  writers  came  forward  who  did 
their  best  by  translations  and  original  works  to  meet 
the  general  demand  for  information  as  to  the  learning, 
customs,  laws,  and  institutions  of  Europe.  Of  these, 
Fukuzawa,  with  his  Seiyd  Jijo  (“  Condition  of  Western 
Countries"),  was  the  most  distinguished.  Nakamura’s 
translations  of  Smiles’  Self-Help  and  Mill's  Liberty 
also  deserve  mention.  Kant  and  Herbert  Spencer 
followed  somewhat  later.  Their  writings  frequently 
supply  texts  for  the  Japanese  able  editor,  instead  of 
the  works  of  the  formerly  venerated  Confucius  and 
Mencius. 

Another  sign  of  the  renewed  avidity  for  knowledge  was 
the  rise  of  a newspaper  press  and  of  a magazine  litera- 
ture. The  first  newspaper  in  Japan  deserving  of  the 
name  was  published  in  Tokio  by  a Scotchman  named 
Black  about  1872.  At  the  end  of  1894  there  were  in 
existence,  in  spite  of  a rigorous  censorship,  no  fewer 
than  814  different  newspapers  and  magazines,  with  a 
total  circulation  of  367,755  copies. 

With  the  exception  of  translations  and  works  designed 
to  make  Europe  known  to  the  Japanese,  the  literature 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


386 

showed  few  signs  of  foreign  influence  until  about  1879, 
when  translations  of  European  novels  began  to  make 
their  appearance.  The  first  of  these  was  Lord  Lytton’s 
Ernest  Maltravers.  It  produced  a profound  sensation, 
and  was  followed  during  the  next  few  years  by  a number 
of  others.1  A pronounced  reaction  against  the  methods 
and  principles  of  the  Bakin  school  of  fiction  was  the 
consequence.  Tsubouchi  Yuzo  was  the  principal  pro- 
moter of  the  new  movement.  In  a work  entitled  Skosetsu 
Shinzui  (“  Spirit  of  Fiction  ”)  he  denounced  the  artificial 
morality  of  Bakin’s  writings.  More  recently  he  became 
editor  of  a literary  magazine  called  Waseda  Bungaku,  the 
organ  of  the  newer  school  of  criticism,  which  derives 
its  principles  and  standards  entirely  from  European 
sources.  In  his  Shosci  Katagi  (“ Types  of  Students”), 
1887,  Tsubouchi  has  given  an  example  of  a realistic 
novel.  It  is  well  written,  and  contains  some  graphic 
and  humorous  sketches  of  modern  student  life  viewed 
from  the  seamy  side,  but  has  little  plot,  portraiture  of 
character,  or  dramatic  incident.  Tsubouchi  has  also 
tried  his  hand  at  drama.  I have  not  seen  his  Julius 
CcEsar , which  Dr.  Florenz  describes  as  a version  of 
Shakespeare’s  drama  thrown  into  the  form  of  Joruri, 
that  is,  with  a thread  of  poetical  narrative  and  descrip- 
tion woven  into  it ; but  I have  before  me  two  others,  of 
his  plays,  the  Maki  no  Kata  (1897),  and  the  Kiku  to  Kiri 
(1898). 

The  Maki  no  Kata  is  in  the  Kyakubon  style,  that  is,  it 
depends  almost  wholly  on  dialogue.  The  small  element 

1 Among  European  writers  of  fiction  whose  works  have  been  translated  into 
Japanese  maybe  mentioned  Dumas  ( Trois  Alousqueiaires ),, Cervantes,  Rider 
Haggard,  and  Jules  Verne.  Telcmcique  and  Robinson  Crusoe  (commended  for 
its  excellent  moral  teaching)  have  also  been  translated. 


RECENT  FICTION 


387 

of  Joruri  which  it  contains  is  limited  to  one  of  the  seven 
acts  of  which  this  play  is  composed  which  seemed  to 
demand  a more  poetical  treatment.  It  is  one  of  a trilogy 
which  deals  with  the  history  of  the  Hojo  regents.  The 
time  is  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  the 
subject  the  crimes  and  intrigues  into  which  Maki  no 
Kata,  the  wife  of  the  Regent,  was  led  by  her  ambitions 
on  behalf  of  a favourite  son.  The  Maki  no  Kata:  is 
decidedly  melodramatic.  There  are  several  murders  and 
bloody  combats,  and  two  hara-kiri  by  women.  But  there 
are  also  some  really  forcible  scenes,  and  although  no 
supreme  height  of  excellence  is  anywhere  attained,  there 
is  careful  workmanship  and  a gratifying  freedom  from 
the  extravagances  of  the  earlier  school  of  Japanese 
dramatists.  Of  pivot -words  and  such -like  rhetorical 
devices  there  are  the  merest  traces.  Most  writers  of 
the  Tokio  period  show  a marked  tendency  to  dispense 
with  these  contrivances. 

The  specialty  of  Sudo  Nansui  is  the  political  novel. 
This  author  belongs  to  the  progressive  party  in  politics 
and  social  science,  and  his  pages  bristle  with  allusions 
to  “things  European.”  He  quotes  glibly,  “To  be  or 
not  to  be,  that  is  a question  ” (sic),  and  talks  familiarly 
of  Shakespeare,  Dumas,  Gladstone,  and  O'Connell.  The 
extent  and  variety  of  his  reading  may  be  inferred  from 
an  airy  reference  in  one  of  his  prefaces  to  Lytton, 
Bakin,  Scott,  Tanehiko,  Hugo,  Shunsui,  Dickens,  and 
Ikku. 

The  Ladies  of  New  Style  (1887)  is  a good  example 
of  his  works.  It  is  a novel  of  the  future,  when  Tokio 
shall  have  become  a great  port,  with  all  the  appliances 
of  an  advanced  civilisation,  such  as  wharves,  docks, 
tramways,  and  smoking  factory  chimneys.  The  heroine, 


388  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

whose  charms  are  depicted  with  a profuse  expenditure 
of  ornate  diction,  is  a dairymaid.  Let  not  the  reader 
suppose  that  this  occupation  is  meant  to  suggest  pastoral 
simplicity.  On  the  contrary,  it  indicates  to  the  Japanese 
public  that  the  lady  is  in  the  forefront  of  the  progres- 
sive movement.  Formerly  cow’s  milk  was  not  used  as 
food  in  Japan,  and  when  this  novel  appeared  none  but 
a truly  enlightened  person  would  dare  to  affront  the 
old-fashioned  prejudices  against  it.  This  dairymaid's 
favourite  reading  is  Herbert  Spencer’s  treatise  on  educa- 
tion. She  is  a member  of  a ladies’  club  where  croquet 
and  lawn-tennis  are  played  and  women's  rights  discussed. 
Other  characters  are — an  adherent  of  Arabi  Pasha,  who, 
after  his  leader's  defeat  by  the  “ great  warrior  General 
Wolseley,”  was  banished  from  Egypt  and  took  service 
with  a Japanese  gentleman  ; a Chinese  cook,  who  is 
naturally  assigned  the  role  of  a subordinate  villain,  and 
a number  of  politicians  of  the  Conservative  and  Liberal 
parties.  Among  the  incidents  we  have  a balloon  ascent, 
a contested  election,  and  a dynamite  explosion,  which 
is  prevented  from  doing  harm  by  the  sagacity  of  a dog 
of  European  breed.  All  this,  it  will  be  observed,  indi- 
cates a high  degree  of  civilisation. 

In  the  last  chapter  the  dairymaid  is  married  to  the 
advanced  politician,  who,  on  the  auspicious  occasion, 
wears  a clean  standing-up  collar  and  a white  silk  neck- 
tie, with  white  gloves,  and  a small  white  orange  blossom 
in  the  left  button-hole  of  his  coat. 

The  Ladies  of  New  Style  has  really  considerable  merit. 
There  is  plenty  of  incident  and  a coherent  plot,  and  the 
writer  can  not  only  quote  Herbert  Spencer  and  Mill, 
but,  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  has ' an  excellent 
command  of  his  own  language,  more  especially  of  the 


RECENT  FICTION  389 

Chinese  element  in  it,  which  is  so  prominent  at  the  pre- 
sent time. 

The  Local  Self  Government  (Sudo  affects  English  titles) 
is  a work  of  a similar  character. 

Yamada  Taketaro,  a contemporary  of  Tsuboiichi’s,  is 
the  principal  champion  of  an  attempt  to  substitute  the 
modern  colloquial  grammar  for  the  grammatical  forms 
and  rules  of  the  traditional  literary  dialect.  He  has  pro- 
duced a number  of  novels  and  stories  written  on  this 
principle,  which,  if  universally  adopted,  would  save  the 
Japanese  nation  the  trouble  of  mastering  a second 
grammar  for  purposes  of  reading  and  writing,  in  addition 
to  that  of  their  ordinary  speech.  His  Natsu  Kodachi 
(“  Summer  Trees")  is  a series  of  short  stories  which  bear 
numerous  traces  of  the  author’s  studies  of  European 
literature.  One  is  a Japanese  version  of  the  story  of 
Appius  and  Virginia}  and  another  a pastoral  idyll 
obviously  suggested  by  a European  model.  Yamada’s 
later  writings  I have  not  seen.  Dr.  Florenz  describes 
them  as  11  cleverly  written,  the  characters  well  and  natu- 
rally drawn."  ' This  is  high  praise  to  give  a Japanese 
novelist. 

Yencho,  a blind  story-teller  of  Tokio,  also  composes  in 
the  colloquial  style.  Indeed  his  novels  are  first  delivered 
in  a spoken  form,  and  are  taken  down  in  writing  by  his 
pupils.  Their  language  is  simple  and  easy,  and  they  may 
be  recommended  to  any  European  who  is  beginning  the 
study  of  Japanese.  Some  of  his  plots  are  said  to  be  taken 
from  the  French. 

One  of  the  most  popular  and  voluminous  novelists 
of  the  present  day  is  Ozaki  Tokutaro  (Koyosan).  In 
his  earlier  works,  which  I have  not  seen,  he  made  great 
use  of  the  pivot  style,  but  his  Tajo-takon  (1897)  ls 
26 


390  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

written  in  the  colloquial  language.  An  acquaintance 
with  English  is  evinced  by  the  short  sentences,  the 
copious  use  of  personal  pronouns,  and  the  frequent 
introduction  of  words  which,  although  composed  of 
Chinese  elements,  can  only  be  fully  understood  when 
we  have  recognised  the  English  word  which  they  are 
intended  to  represent.  Such  English-Chinese-Japanese 
words  are  by  no  means  peculiar  to  Ozaki.  They 
now  form  a considerable  part  of  the  vocabulary  of 
newspaper  and  magazine  writers.  Ozaki  frequently 
gives  the  impression  of  having  thought  in  English,  and 
then  presented  his  readers  with  a literal  translation  into 
Japanese.  He  is  said  to  be  an  admirer  of  M.  Zola. 

The  Tajo-takon  (“Much  Feeling,  Much  Hate")  is  a 
study  of  sentiment.  It  opens  with  the  lachrymose  lamen- 
tations of  a disconsolate  widower.  At  the  eightieth  page 
the  hero  is  still  plaguing  his  friends  and  exhausting  the 
reader’s  patience  with  a maudlin  grief,  which  must  be 
even  more  obnoxious  to  Japanese  feeling  than  to  our 
own.  One  weary  reader  left  him  at  this  point,  wiping 
his  streaming  eyes  with  a borrowed  pocket-handker- 
chief, and  complaining  that  he  had  now  nobody  to  wash 
his  own  dirty  ones  for  him. 

One  of  the  most  considerable  literary  figures  of  the 
present  day  is  Koda  Nariyuki  (pseudonym,  Rohan). 
He  writes  in  the  ordinary  literary  dialect,  using  the 
colloquial  speech  only  for  the  dialogue,  and  in  some 
of  his  writings  not  even  for  that.  He  has  imagination, 
lofty  aims,  and  a fine  flow  of  language,  never  descend- 
ing to  vulgarity,  and  rising  frequently  to  poetical  descrip- 
tions of  a high  order  of  merit.  But  the  action  of  his 
stories  moves  slowly,  and  the  speeches  of  his  personages 
are  terribly  lengthy.  His  Ilige-otoko  (1897)  is  a historical 


RECENT  FICTION  391 

novel  of  the  civil  wars  which  preceded  the  establishment 
of  the  Tokugawa  Shogunate. 

The  general  impression  left  by  a very  imperfect  exami- 
nation of  the  drama  and  fiction  of  the  last  twenty  years  is 
on  the  whole  favourable.  The  moral  standards  are  less 
artificial,  there  are  fewer  offences  against  good  taste  and 
decency,  and  there  is  a prevailing  sobriety  of  tone  and 
an  avoidance  of  the  glaring  improbabilities  of  every 
kind  which  abound  in  the  writings  of  such  authors  as 
Chikamatsu  and  Bakin.  We  no  longer  meet  with  such 
monstrously  long  drawn-out  stories  as  the  Hakkenden. 
Comparatively  much  shorter  than  its  predecessor,  the 
recent  novel  shows  more  signs  of  conscientious  care  in 
its  composition. 

The  social  position  of  Japanese  writers  of  fiction  has 
of  late  been  completely  revolutionised.  In  the  Yedo 
period  they  were  Bohemians  or  homines  declasse's , who 
were  in  constant  trouble  with  the  police,  and  were  classed, 
along  with  actors,  among  the  lowest  of  the  people.  Now 
they  are  respectable  members  of  society  ; some  of  them, 
like  Tsubotichi,  being  graduates  of  the  Imperial  Univer- 
sity. Notwithstanding  the  low  prices  at  which  their 
works  are  issued,1  a popular  novelist  now  commands  a 
fair  income  from  his  works.  Yano  Fumio,  out  of  the 
proceeds  of  the  sale  of  his  Keikoku  Bidan  (a  novel  of 
Theban  life,  with  Epaminondas  for  the  hero),  was  able 
to  treat  himself  to  a tour  in  Europe,  and  to  build  a fine 
house  with  the  balance. 

The  art  of  writing  history  has  not  made  much  pro- 
gress in  recent  years.  Modern  methods  of  investiga- 

1 The  Tajolakon , of  five  hundred  pages,  with  illustrations,  is  published  at 
about  is.  6d.  of  our  money. 


392  JAPANESE  LITERATURE 

tion  and  principles  of  historical  criticism  are  known 
and  accepted  ; but  a great  sifting  of  the  existing  hetero- 
geneous material  must  be  done  before  history,  as  we 
understand  it,  can  be  written.  Nobody  has  yet  made 
any  serious  attempt  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false 
in  the  old  Japanese  annals,  though  it  is  pretty  generally 
acknowledged  that  this  process  is  indispensable.  Philo- 
sophical history  is  still  in  its  infancy.  The  numerous 
historical  works  which  have  appeared  during  the  last 
twenty  years  are  chiefly  uncritical  epitomes  of  Japanese, 
Corean,  Chinese,  and  European  history,  and  simple 
memoir es  pour  servir . Shimada  Saburo’s  Kaikoku  Shi- 
matsu  (1888)  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  latter 
class.  It  is  a collection  of  material  bearing  on  the 
opening  of  Japan  to  foreign  trade  in  1859. 

The  Shorai  no  Nihon  (“ Japan  of  the  Future"),  by 
Tokutomi  Iichiro,  is  an  attempt  to  forecast  the  future  of 
Japan  by  an  examination  of  its  past  history.  Mr.  W. 
Dening  describes  it  as  “more  philosophical  in  concep- 
tion than  most  preceding  publications  of  its  class,  and 
surpassed  by  none  of  them  in  point  of  style.  This  work, 
in  the  space  of  two  years,  ran  through  five  editions,  and 
competent  Japanese  critics  pronounce  it  to  be  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  books  of  the  age.  The  writer  is  a 
Christian." 

Among  other  works  of  a serious  kind  may  be  men- 
tioned Marquis  Ito’s  Commentary  on  the  Constitution}  and 
a treatise  by  Ono  Adzusa  on  the  same  subject.  Mr. 
Dening  gives  high  praise  to  Nose  Yei's  Kydikugaku , a 
work  on  education.  The  author’s  aim  is  to  adapt  Western 
principles  and  ideas  to  the  local  requirements  of  Japan, 
and  in  this  he  has,  according  to  Mr.  Dening,  achieved  a 
high  degree  of  success. 


RECENT  POETRY 


393 


It  can  hardly  be  maintained  that  the  Japanese  nation 
has  up  to  the  present  time  produced  much  poetry  of 
striking  merit.  The  Naga-uta  of  the  Manydshiuy  not- 
withstanding its  limited  resources  and  confined  scope, 
gave  a promise  which  was  not  destined  to  be  fulfilled, 
and  the  tiny  Tanka  which  succeeded  it  in  popular  favour 
was  precluded  by  its  very  form  from  being  a vehicle  for 
the  utterance  of  any  but  the  merest  atoms  of  poetical 
thought  or  sentiment.  Again,  the  poetical  element  to  be 
found  in  the  No  and  Joruri  drama  is  so  disfigured  by 
ornament  of  questionable  taste,  and  so  imperfectly  freed 
from  prosaic  dross,  that  we  can  only  allow  it  a very 
modest  place  in  the  history  of  the  art.  Its  importance 
lies  rather  in  its  keeping  alive  the  national  taste  for 
imaginative  writing  than  in  any  intrinsic  merit  which  it 
possesses. 

The  conditions  of  the  present  day  are  more  favour- 
able than  those  of  any  previous  time  to  the  production 
of  good  poetry  in  Japan.  The  ordinary  language,  by 
the  more  thorough  assimilation  of  its  Chinese  element, 
has  gained  considerably  in  fitness  for  poetical  purposes, 
and  its  phonetic  capabilities  are  now  appreciably  greater 
than  in  the  time  of  the  Manydshiu.  Still  more  im- 
portant considerations  are  the  great  stimulus  which 
the  national  life  has  received  from  the  introduction  of 
European  ideas,  and  the  attention  which  has  been 
recently  directed  to  the  poetry  of  Europe,  especially 
of  England. 

The  credit  of  being  the  first  to  recognise  the  advan- 
tages which  the  Japanese  poet  might  derive  from  a study 
of  European  models  belongs  to  Toyama  Masakazu,  a 
Professor  of  the  Imperial  University,  Yatabe  Riokichi 
and  Inouye  Tetsujiro,  whose  joint  publication,  entitled 


394 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Shintaishisho  1 or  “ Poetry  of  New  Form”  (1882),  marks 
an  epoch  in  the  history  of  poetry  in  Japan.  It  is  a bold 
attempt  to  revolutionise  the  art.  The  writers  ignore  the 
Tanka  altogether,  and  set  an  example  of  a kind  of  Naga- 
uta  adapted  to  modern  conditions.  The  old  principle  of 
the  alternation  of  phrases  of  five  and  seven  syllables  is  re- 
tained, the  seven-syllable  phrases,  however,  being  usually 
put  first.  A decided  improvement  is  the  division  into 
verses  or  stanzas  of  equal  length.  But  it  is  chiefly  in  the 
language  employed  that  the  new  style  is  distinguished 
from  the  old.  Toyama  and  his  colleagues,  finding  the 
ancient  classical  language  unequal  to  the  expression  of 
the  new  ideas,  and  largely  unintelligible  to  a modern 
public,  frankly  adopted  the  ordinary  written  language 
of  the  day,  whLh  had  hitherto  been  only  used  for 
popular  poetry  of  the  humblest  pretensions.  In  their 
choice  of  themes,  in  the  length  of  their  poems,  and  in 
the  general  tone  of  thought,  the  influence  of  European 
models  is  plainly  traceable. 

Some  experiments  in  rhymed  verse  by  poets  of  the 
new  school  confirm  the  opinion  already  expressed  of 
the  unsuitableness  of  the  Japanese  language  for  this 
form  of  poetical  ornament. 

The  Shintaishisho  contains  nineteen  poems  of  no  great 
length.  Of  these  only  five  are  original,  the  remainder 
being  translations  from  English  poets.  Bloomfield  is 
represented  by  “The  Soldier's  Return,”  Campbell  by 
“The  Mariners  of  England,”  and  Tennyson  by  “The 
Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,”  of  which  tyvo  versions 
are  given.  The  same  compliment  is  paid  to  Gray's 

1 Dr.  Florenz,  Professor  of  Philology  in  the  Imperial  University  of  Tokio, 
has  given  an  interesting  account  of  this  movement  in  a paper  contributed  to 
the  German  Asiatic  Society  of  Tokio,  March  1892. 


RECENT  POETRY 


395 


u Elegy " and  Longfellow's  “ Psalm  of  Life."  Shake- 
speare is  represented  by  four  extracts,  and  Charles 
Kingsley  by  his  “ Three  Fishers." 

The  original  poems  include  verses  written  before  the 
colossal  image  of  Buddha  at  Kamakura,  an  ode  to  the 
four  seasons,  and  a war-song.  Neither  the  original  poems 
nor  the  translations  have  striking  merit  in  themselves, 
but  they  attracted  a large  measure  of  public  attention,  and 
gave  rise  to  a lively  controversy  between  the  adherents  of 
the  old  and  new  styles.  They  also  produced  a school  of 
imitators,  among  whom  the  novelist  Yamada  was  one  of 
the  most  eminent. 

More  recently  (1891)  Toyama,  the  chief  originator  of 
the  movement,  brought  out  a poem  on  the  great  earth- 
quake of  1855,  which  has  not  only  considerable  merit  in 
itself,  but  occupies  a unique  position  in  Japanese  litera- 
ture as  a descriptive  poem  of  some  length. 

Dr.  Florenz,  writing  in  1892,  says  that  1888  may  be 
taken  as  the  culminating  point  of  the  favour  shown  to 
the  new  style  of  poetry.  A reaction  then  set  in,  which, 
however,  was  of  short  duration.  The  last  two  or  three 
years  have  produced  a considerable  quantity  of  verse 
more  or  less  in  the  new  form,  of  which  all  that  can  now 
be  said  is  that,  on  a hasty  examination,  it  reveals  some 
promising  features.  Regularity  of  form  is  more  carefully 
attended  to — a great  desideratum  in  the  longer  kinds  of 
Japanese  poetry. 

The  day  of  Tanka  and  Haikai  seems  to  have  passed. 
These  miniature  forms  of  poetry  are  now  the  exception 
and  not  the  rule. 

The  following  specimen,  which  may  be  taken  as 
characteristic  of  the  vague  and  dreamy  style  of  most 
recent  Japanese  poetry,  is  translated  from  a little  volume 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


396 

of  prose  and  verse  by  three  authors,  entitled  Hana  Momijif 
or  “ Flower  and  Autumn  Leaves"  (1898)  : — 


The  Bamboo  Flute  by  the  Shore 

I 

“ In  the  shade  of  the  firs  of  the  craggy  cliff. 

To-night  again  a bamboo  flute  is  heard : 

Is  it  soitie  fisher-boy , solacing  his  heart 

From  the  woes  of  a world  bitter  with  salt  and  seaweed  ? 

Moonlight  or  dark , he  little  cares , 

Night  after  night  he  visits  these  fir-tree s’  shade. 

In  the  music  of  his  bamboo  flute 

There  may  be  heard  cadences  which  tell  of  yearning  love. 

A day  had  passed  since  the  courtiers  of  the  lord  of  the  latid 
Held  night-long  revel  here , wandering  forth  upon  the  beach. 
While  the  bark  of  the  autumn  moon 
Pursued  its  crystal  course ; 

When  the  fished  s flute  was  for  the  first  time  heard. 

A day  had  passed  since  the  ladies  of  our  lord \ 

Mooring  their  gay  pleasure-boat,  held  revel  here. 

Attuning  the  music  of  their  golden  lutes 

To  the  song  of  the  breeze  through  the  fir-trees  on  the  cliffs  j 

When  the  fished  s flute  was  for  the  first  time  heard. 

II 

On  nights  when  the  dew  lay  heavy  on  the  reeds  of  the  chilly  shore , 
And  the  wind  of  the  firs  came  in  gusts  down  from  the  crags , 

He  never  failed  to  come — this  fisher-boy  : 

His  bamboo  flute  was  heard  in  clear- sounding  notes . 

On  nights  when  the  rattling  of  the  hail  was  loud. 

And  the  ripples  on  the  beach  were  changed  to  ice , ' 

He  never failed  to  come — this  fisher-boy  : 

His  bamboo  flute  was  heard  in  subduecl  tones . 


RECENT  POETRY 


397 


On  nights  when  evening  fell , wild  with  mountain  blasts , 

And  the  sand  was  whirled  up  into  the  air, 

He  never  failed  to  come — this  fisher -boy  : 

His  bamboo  flute  was  heard  in  confused  notes. 

On  nights  of  rain , when  darkness  came  down  with  a sound  of 
moaning  waves. 

And  the  rocks  were  steeped  in  moisture , 

He  never failed  to  come — this  fisher-boy  : 

His  bamboo  flute  was  heard,  languid  and  faint . 

Ill 

To-night  the  autumn  mooti  has  changed. 

So  long  his  yearning  love  has  endured. 

Still  his  bamboo  flute  is  heard, 

Jts  tune  and  measure  ever  more  entrancing. 

With  the  storm  from  the  cliff  it  was  troubled. 

With  the  echoes  from  the  fir-trees  it  became  clear , 

With  the  surges  from  the  deep  it  was  frenzied \ 

With  the  -waves  on  the  rocks  it  became  choked. 

Even  the  clouds  over  Onoye 1 paused  to  listeti 

To  its  notes,  now  calling  clearly,  and  now  with  strangled  utterance 

What  wonder  then  that  some  one  descends  from  the  bower  above , 

And  comes  forth  absorbed  in  reverie  / 

For  awhile  the  flute  ceased  its  importunities } 

But  hark  ! louder  than  before 

The  music  of  the  bamboo  bursts  forth,  making  the  sky  resound. 

And  in  accord  with  it,  how  sweet ! 

A re  heard  the  notes  of  a golden  lute. 

Sometime  the  wide- spreading  clouds  descending  from  Onoye 
Bore  away  with  them  the  musicians  of  the  fragrant  rocks  below , 

Up  to  that  region  where  the  bark  of  the  moon , 

With  altered  helm , steered  straight  to  meet  them? 

— Shiwoi  Uk5. 

1 The  mention  of  this  place  shows  that  the  scene  is  the  same  as  that  of 
Takasago,  See  above,  p.  207. 


398 


JAPANESE  LITERATURE 


Thirty  years  is  far  too  short  a time  for  the  seed  sown 
at  the  Revolution  of  1867  to  grow  up  and  ripen  literary 
fruit.  We  have  seen  that  the  intellectual  movement  to 
which  Iyeyasu's  establishment  of  the  Yedo  Shogunate 
led,  did  not  reach  its  climax  until  a century  later.  No 
doubt  things  move  more  rapidly  in  the  present  day, 
but  it  seems  reasonable  to  believe  that  what  we  now 
witness  is  only  the  beginning  of  a new  and  important 
development. 

The  process  of  absorbing  new  ideas  which  has  mainly 
occupied  the  Japanese  nation  during  the  last  thirty  years, 
is  incomplete  in  one  very  important  particular.  Although 
much  in  European  thought  which  is  inseparable  from 
Christianity  has  been  freely  adopted  by  Japan,  the 
Christian  religion  itself  has  made  comparatively  little 
progress.  The  writings  of  the  Kamakura  and  two  sub- 
sequent periods  are  penetrated  with  Buddhism,  and 
those  of  the  Yedo  age  with  moral  and  religious  ideas 
derived  from  China.  Christianity  has  still  to  put  its 
stamp  on  the  literature  of  the  Tokio  period. 

There  are  some  considerations  which  tend  to  show 
that  important  results  in  this  direction  may  be  expected 
during  the  century  which  is  nearly  approaching  us.  The 
previous  religious  history  of  the  nation  has  prepared 
Japan  for  the  acceptance  of  a higher  form  of  faith. 
Buddhism  did  not  a little  towards  fostering  ideals  of 
holiness,  humanity,  and  detachment  from  worldly  things. 
Confucianism  provided  high,  though  it  may  be  some- 
what distorted,  standards  of  morality,  and  a compara- 
tively rational  system  of  philosophy.  Shinto  taught 
a reverence  for  the  Divine  powers  which  created  and 
govern  the  universe  and  man.  But  none  of  the  three 
sufficed  by  itself  to  meet  the  heart,  soul,  and  mind  want 


CHRISTIANITY 


399 


of  the  Japanese  nation.  Can  it  be  imagined  that  when 
a religion  is  presented  to  them  which  alone  is  adapted 
to  satisfy  far  more  completely  all  the  cravings  of  their 
higher  nature,  the  Japanese,  with  their  eminently  recep- 
tive minds,  will  fail  in  time  to  recognise  its  immense 
superiority  ? 1 They  have  already  accepted  European 
philosophy  and  science.  It  is  simply  inconceivable  that 
the  Christian  religion  should  not  follow.  Probably,  as 
was  the  case  with  Buddhism,  it  will  not  be  received 
without  some  modification.  Their  previous  history  sug- 
gests that  this  may  take  the  direction  of  a more  rational- 
istic form  of  Christian  belief  than  that  which  prevails 
in  Europe.  ’ AW ’ y rot  fiev  ravra  Occov  ev  yovvacn  /ceircu. 
The  historian  of  the  Japanese  literature  of  the  future 
will  have  more  to  say  on  this  subject. 

1 There  are  even  now  1 13,000  native  Christians  in  Japan. 


BIBLIOGRAPHICAL  NOTE 


In  regard  to  bibliography,  the  writer  of  the  present  volume  of  this 
series  finds  himself  in  a very  different  position  from  his  predecessors. 
He  has  no  embarras  de  richesses  to  contend  with.  The  only  survey  of 
the  whole  field  of  Japanese  literature  which  has  hitherto  appeared  in 
any  European  language  is  an  article  by  Sir  E.  Satow,  in  vol.  ix.  pp. 
55 !— 565  of  Appleton's  American  Cyclopcedia  (New  York,  1874),  excellent 
as  far  as  it  goes,  but  owing  to  the  brevity  inseparable  from  such  a form 
of  publication,  more  fitted  to  excite  than  to  satisfy  the  reader’s  curiosity. 
It  will  be  found  useful  by  any  one  who  wishes  to  extend  his  knowledge 
of  the  subject,  as  it  mentions  a large  number  of  Japanese  books  which 
have  been  entirely  passed  over  in  the  preceding  pages. 

Mr.  B.  H.  Chamberlain’s  Classical  Poetry  of  the  Japanese  (1880) 
contains  translations  into  English  verse  of  a number  of  poems  from 
the  Manyoshiu  and  Kokinshiu , with  selections  from  the  No  and 
Kid  gen , and  an  appendix  of  very  short  biographical  notices  of  the 
more  ancient  Japanese  poets.  There  is  a similar  work  in  French 
by  M.  Leon  de  Rosny. 

Some  interesting  glimpses  of  the  popular  literature  and  folk-lore 
of  the  Yedo  period  are  given  in  Mr.  A.  B.  Mitford’s  Tales  of  Old 
Japan  (1871). 

Mr.  William  Anderson’s  Catalogue  of  Japanese  and  Chinese  Pictures 
in  the  British  Museum  (1886)  deals  with  the  literature  of  Japan  viewed 
as  a source  of  supply  of  subjects  for  the  artist. 

The  Transactions  of  the  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan  contain  a number 
of  translations  and  notices  of  Japanese  books,  by  Sir  E.  Satow,  Mr. 
B.  H.  Chamberlain,  and  others  ; and  Dr.  K.  Florenz’s  contributions 
to  the  Journal  of  the  German  Asiatic  Society  of  Japan  should  also 
be  mentioned. 


400 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


401 


In  addition  to  the  above,  there  exists  in  various  European  languages 
a considerable  mass  of  translations  from  the  Japanese,  published  either 
separately  or  in  magazines  and  journals  of  learned  societies,  of  which 
it  may  be  said — 

“ Sunt  bona , sunt  qucedam  mediocria , sunt  mala  plural' 

The  more  important  have  been  indicated  in  the  body  of  this  work,  and 
it  is  believed  that  little  inconvenience  will  be  caused  by  the  omission  of 
all  reference  to  the  remainder.  Those  who  wish  to  prosecute  their 
researches  further  in  this  direction  will  find  the  means  of  doing  so 
in  Mr.  Fr.  von  Wenckstern’s  comprehensive  and  useful,  though  not 
particularly  accurate,  Bibliography  of  the  Japanese  Empire  (1895). 
A Catalogue  of  Japanese  Books  and  Manuscripts  in  the  British 
Museum , by  Mr.  R.  K.  Douglas,  is  also  useful  for  reference. 

The  contributions  of  the  Japanese  themselves  to  the  materials  for 
a history  of  their  literature  are  naturally  much  more  important  than 
anything  which  has  been  written  by  Europeans.  The  labours  of 
Mabuchi  and  his  greater  pupil  Motoori  have  been  already  noticed, 
and  good  work  has  been  done  by  a multitude  of  native  editors  and 
commentators  towards  clearing  up  the  obscurity  which  even  to 
Japanese  surrounds  many  of  their  older  authors.  Nothing,  however, 
which  deserves  the  name  of  a History  of  Literature  appeared  until 
1890,  when  Messrs.  Mikami  Sanji  and  Takatsu  Kuwasaburo,  of  the 
Imperial  University  of  Tokio,  brought  out  their  Nippon  Bungakushi ', 
which  is  by  far  the  most  valuable  work  on  this  subject.  The  critical 
judgments  of  the  authors  may  not  always  commend  themselves  to 
Europeans,  but  they  have  succeeded  in  setting  forth  the  leading  facts 
of  the  history  of  their  literature  in  a clear,  methodical’  manner.  I 
gladly  acknowledge  my  very  considerable  obligations  to  their  work. 

A history  of  fiction,  entitled  Shosetsu  Shiko,  by  Sekine  Masanao 
(1890),  should  also  be  mentioned. 

The  most  useful  bibliography  in  the  Japanese  language  is  the 
Gunsho  Ichiran , by  Ozaki  Masayoshi,  six  volumes  (1801),  and  the 
best  biographical  dictionary  is  a bulky  work  by  a number  of  authors, 
entitled  Dai  Nippon  Jimmei  Jisho  (1886).  A list  of  other  works  of 
this  class  may  be  found  in  the  article  in  Appletoris  Cyclopcedia  already 
referred  to. 

Monographs  on  Hakuseki,  Sorai,  Chikamatsu,  and  other  eminent 
authors,  have  been  lately  published,  and  a good  deal  is  being  done  at 

* r 


402 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


the  present  time  in  the  way  of  re-editing  and  annotating  the  monu- 
ments of  the  older  literature. 

The  Hakubunkan  publishing  house  of  Tokio  have  reprinted  most 
of  the  fiction  and  drama  of  the  Yedo  period  under  the  description 
Teikoku  Bunko  or  “Imperial  Library.”  As  an  illustration  of  the  cheap- 
ness of  books  in  Japan,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  each  volume  of  this 
series  contains  about  one  thousand  octavo  pages  of  reasonably  good 
print,  on  tolerable  paper,  in  neat  binding,  and  is  sold  for  the  equivalent 
of  about  one  shilling  of  our  money. 


A LIST  OF  DICTIONARIES,  GRAMMARS,  AND  OTHER 
WORKS  OF  REFERENCE  USEFUL  TO  STUDENTS 
OF  JAPANESE 


A Japanese- English  and  English-JapaJiese  Dictionary , by  J.  C. 
Hepburn  (fourth  edition,  1888). 

A Dictionary  of  Chinese-Japanese  IVords,  by  J.  H.  Gubbins  (1889). 

A Chinese-English  Dictionary , by  H.  A.  Giles  (1892). 

A Native  Chinese-Japanese  Dictionary,  such  as  the  Gioku-hen. 

One  of  the  following  native  dictionaries  of  the  Japanese  language  : 
Nippon  Daijirin;  Genkai;  Nippon  Daijisho.  Of  these,  the  first- 
named  is  the  fullest  and  most  elaborate.  But  even  in  the  best 
dictionaries,  whether  by  Japanese  or  foreigners,  vast  numbers  of 
words  are  not  to  be  found. 

A Gra?nmar  of  the  Japanese  Written  Language , by  W.  G.  Aston 
(second  edition,  1877). 

A Gra?n?nar  of  the  Japanese  Spoken  Language , by  W.  G.  Aston 
(fourth  edition,  1888). 

Or,  A Handbook  of  Colloquial  Japanese , by  B.  H.  Chamberlain 
(third  edition,  1898). 

A Romanised  Japanese  Reader , by  B.  H.  Chamberlain  (1886). 

A Manual  of  Japanese  Writing , by  the  same  author,  is  in  pre- 
paration. 

Japanese  Chronological  Tables , by  E.  M.  S.  (Sir  Ernest  Satow), 
(1874),  or  a similar  work  by  W.  Bramsen  (1880),  will  be  found 
necessary. 


403 


INDEX 


Abutsu,  157 
Adzuma -kagarn  i,  160 
Akahito,  35 
Anthologies,  34,  58,  159 
Arai  Hakuseki,  244 : Arakida 
Moritake,  290 
Archaic  period,  3 

Bakin,  352 
Ballad  Poetry,  20,  24 
Basho,  290 

Ben  no  Naiji  Nikki,  158 
Bibliography,  400 

Buddhism,  4,  6,  132,  145,  220,  344, 

398 

Chikafusa,  164 
Chikamatsu,  273 
Children’s  tales,  272 
Chinese  Philosophy.  See  Kangaku- 
sha  and  Wagakusha 
Chomei,  145 
Christianity,  253,  398 
Chuhi,  225.  See  also  Kangakusha 
Chiushingura , 313 
Classical  period,  53 

Dainihonshi , 315,  379 
Dazai  Shuntai,  301 
Dojikun , 237 
Doshun,  235 

Drama,  197,  213,  273,  288,  312,  386 
Dutch,  study  of,  384 

27 


Epics,  none  in  Japan,  24 
Essays,  54,  184 
Euphony  of  J apanese,  26 

Farce,  213 

Fiction.  See  Novels,  Romances 
Fudokoro  no  Suzuri , 269 
Fujiwara  Seikwa,  224 
Fukuzawa,  385 

Gempei  Seisuiki,  134 
Gengenshiu,  169 
Genji  Monogatari , 92 
Gijinroku , 265 
Goddben , 341 
Grammar,  323 

Hachimonjiya  press,  303 
Haibun , 296 
Haikai , 289 
Hakkenden,  360 
Hakuseki,  244 

Hamamatsu  Chiunagon  Monogatari , 

88 

Hanka , 40 
Hankampu , 248 
Hayashi  Rasan,  235 
Hayashi  Shunsai,  236 
Heian  period,  53 
Heiji  Monogatari , 144 
Heike  Monogatari , 1 39 
Hekijashdron , 341 
Hiaku-n  in  - is-sh  in,  1 59 


4°S 


406 


INDEX 


Hirata,  234 

History,  18,  49,  55,  122,  134,  165, 
169,  248,  252,  379,  392 
Hitomaro,  35 
Hizakurige , 371 
Hcgen  Alonogatari,  144 
Bdjoki , 145 
Humourists,  307 

Ibara  Saikaku,  268 
Idzumo,  312 
ldzumo  Fudoki,  23 
IKKU, 369 

Impersonal  habit  of  Japanese  mind,  30 

Inadzuma  Bibs  hi , 348 

Inaka  Genji , 366 

Iroha  Bunko , 376 

Ise  Monogatari , 76 

Iyeyasu , 218,  224 

Izayoi  no  ki , 157 

/ inkoshbtbki , 164 
JlPPENSHA  IKKU,  369 
Jitsurokumono,  308 
Joruri,  274,  276,  312 

Kabuki  theatre,  274,  28S 
Kada  Adzumamaro,  318 
Kagura , 197 
Kaibara  Yekken,  236 
Kaijin  Yashima , 276 
Kamakura  period,  131 
Kana , 56 

Kangakusha,  224,  235,  300,  341 

Kataribe , 20 

Keichiu,  316 

Keisei  Kintanki , 304 

Kenko,  184 

Kioden,  345 

Kio gen,  213 

Kioka , 297 

Kiokutei  Bakin,  352 
Kiskin  Sliinron , 336 
Kitabatake,  164 
Kiujiki , 6 


Kind  Dozva , 343 
Kiuso,  257 
Kiyotsugu,  199 
Koda  Nariyuki,  390 
Kodd  Taii , 339 
Kojiki,  17 
Kojikiden , 321 
Kojima,  170 
Kokins  h in , 58 
Kokinshiu  Preface,  63 
Kokusenya,  280 
Kompira-bon,  274 
Koshicho,  338 
Koshiden , 338 
Koshiseibun , 338 
Kot tbs hiu,  348 
Kyakubon , 288,  386 

Ladies  of  New  Style,  3S7 
Lyrics.  Poetry 

Mabuchi,  318 

J\Iaki  no  Kata , 386 

J\Iakitra  Kotoba , 31 

Mak  ira  Zoslii , 104 

Alanydshiu , 34 

Manyoshiu  Kogi \ 35 

Matsunaga  Teitoku,  290 

Metre,  28,  29,  289,  394 

yJ  lidzu-kagami,  143 

Mitsukuni , 31 5 

Mokuzu  Monogatari , 268 

Monogatari , 76 

Moral  code,  229,  327,  340 

Motokiyo,  199 

Motoori  Norinaga,  320 

Mum.’dshd,  156 

Murasaki  no  Shikibu,  92 

Murasaki  no  Shikibu  Nikki,  103 

Muro  Kiuso,  257 

Naga-uta,  29,  35,  59,  317 
Namboku-cho  and  Muromachi  Periods, 
163 

Nanka  no  Yu  me,  359 


INDEX 


407 


Nara  Period,  17 
Narihira,  81 

National  character  of  Japanese,  4 

Natsu  Kodachi,  389 

Newspapers,  385 

Nihongi , 48 

Nihon  Gwaishi , 379 

Ninjdbon , 376 

No,  197 

Norilo , 9 

Novels.  Murasaki  no  Shikibu, 
Saikaku,  Jisho,  Kioden,  Bakin, 
Tanehiko,  Shunsui,  Tsubouchi, 
Sudo,  Rohan,  Ozaki,  Yamada, 
Yencho. 

Ochikubo  Monogatari,  88 
Odai  ichiran , 236 
Oharai , 10 
Ohashi  Junzo,  341 
Okagami,  125 
Oka  Seidan,  308 
Ori-taku-shiba , 244 
Otomo  no  Yakamochi,  42 
Ozaki,  389 

Parallelism,  33,  37,  396 
Philosophy,  225  ; see  also  Kanga- 
knsha 

Phonetic  writing,  56 

Pivot- words,  32,  201,  280,  298,  363, 

3^7,  389 

Poetry,  7,  24,  33,  58,  63,  140,  159, 
178,  197,  279,  289,  299,  317,  393 
Popular  Drama,  273,  312 
Popular  Literature,  219,  267 
Pornography,  269,  303,  307,  347 
Printing,  220 
Profanity,  375 

Rai  Sanyo,  379 
Raku-kun , 241 
Riutei  Tanehiko,  365 
Rhythm,  27 
Rohan,  390 


Romance,  see  Novels 
Rbnin , 275 

Sagoromo  Monogatari , 1 18 
Saikaku,  268 
Samba,  367 
Santo  Kioden,  345 
Sarashina  Nikki,  118 
Seibun,  335,  338 
Seikwa,  224 
Sei  Shonagon,  104 
Seiyd  Kibun,  253 
Seiyuki,  359 
Share , 297 
Sharebon , 307,  376 
Shichiya  no  Kura,  359 
Shiki  Monogatari , 156 
Shikitei  Samba,  367 
Shingaku,  342 
Shintaishishd,  394 

Shinto , see  Norito , Kojiki,  IVagakusha 

Shinto  Rituals,  9 

Shojiroku,  126 

Shoku-nihongi,  23 

Shundai  Zatsuwa , 258 

Shunsui,  376 

Shutsujo  Shogo,  341 

Songs  (archaic),  7 

SORAI,  30I 

SUDO,  387 

Suibodai , 348 

Suikoden,  359 

Sumiyoshi  Monogatari , 88 

Taiheiki , 169 
Taikoki,  223,  308 
Tajd-takon,  389 
Takasago , 204 
Takeda  Idzumo,  312 
Takemoto  Za,  275 
Taketori  Monogatari , 7 6 
Tamadasuki,  339 
Tamakushige,  324 
TamenagA  Shunsui,  376 
Tanehiko,  365 


INDEX 


408 

Tanka, , 28,  35,  42,  59,  *97,  395 
To-kagatni,  62 
T6ki5  period,  383 
Tokushi  Yoron,  252 
Topography,  22 
Torikayebaya  Monogatari,  118 
Tosa  Nikki , 67 
Toshikage , 85 

Tournaments  (poetical),  59 
Toyama,  393 
Tsubouchi  Yuzo,  386 
Tsurayuki,  58,  61,  63 
Tsure-dzure-gusa , 184 

UdoJJge  Monogatari,  348 
Uji  Monogatari,  119 
Ukiyofuro , 368 
Ukiyo-toko , 368  v 
Urashima  legend,  39 
Utsnbo  Monogatari , 84 

Wabun,  316,  332  * 

IVagakttska,  315,  334 


Wamiosho , 1 27 
Wasobioye,  310 

Women  as  authors,  34,  55,  92,  133, 
157,  I58>  232 
Writing,  6,  56 

Yamada  Taketaro,  389 
Yarnato  Monogatari , 88 
Yamazaki  Sokan,  289 
Yasumaro,  19 
Yedo  a literary  centre,  219 
Yedo  period,  217 
Yeigwa  Monogatari , 122 
Yekken,  236 
Yencho,  389 
Yengishiki , 10,  126 
Yokoi  Yayu,  297 
Yokyoku  Tsfige , 200 
F<?  wo  tsuru,  158 
Yumi-bari-tsuki , 355. 

Zuihitsu , 54 


(3) 


THE  END 


LITERATURES  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Edited  by  EDMUND  GOSSE, 

Hon.  M.A.  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 


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